


Fifteen Flares

by Coniferophyta



Series: Fifteen Flares [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Addiction, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, First Love, Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Neurodiversity, Past Abuse, Sexist Language, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, Slut Shaming, Underage Substance Use, Unrequited Love, eating disorder (suggested)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coniferophyta/pseuds/Coniferophyta
Summary: The Coleman brothers live in a beautiful liberal tourist town on an island in NW Washington state with their single mother.  This story takes begins immediately following the eventful 15th birthday of twin brothers Max and Beck.Fifteen Flares is a series I have been working on that follows the lives of 15 teenagers living in a small seemingly idyllic island tourist town in NW Washington state in the US.  It will examine an assortment of coming of age issues and how the lives of the characters differ and overlap.I published this before as a WIP, but removed it as I wanted to rework the story completely.  I don't have the plot fully worked out so there may be changes to earlier chapters as I continue to work.I won't have a schedule for posting updates, so subscribe for updates if you want to be notified.Title Fifteen Flares is taken from Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish.<3 enjoy my beautiful fucked up children.  I love them so.





	1. Beckett

 

“For how often I lose fights, you’d think I’d stop picking them,”  Beck told Amy in lieu of an actual explanation.  She just looked at him, quietly took in the fresh black eye and the cast on his arm.  He peered out from his too-big hoodie and considered repeating himself, unsure if she’d heard him, sometimes when he was like this he would speak too quietly, or think he’d said something out loud that he had only just thought. 

He decided to let it go, curled into himself a bit more, took comfort in the layers of clothing he’s decided to wear Saturday morning and was still wearing.  Amy wouldn’t have been amused anyway.  He’d managed one sentence and was already tired of talking.  He looked away from her, out the window towards the parking lot. 

He was mostly tired, if he had to sum it all up in a word.

Not like, _I didn’t get enough sleep_ “tired” though honestly, that too.  It was a _fundamental to your existence_ type of “tired”

Yeah, tired.

There was a dog crapping on the strip of grass next to the parking lot outside of the clinic while his owner huddled in his jacket against rain, protecting his cigarette.  Not many people smoked in his part of the world, it was kind of frowned upon in that health-conscious corner of the US.  He smoked up a storm the night the shit hit the fan, too much obviously because just seeing it made his nerves crawl with want, and he didn’t even really smoke cigarettes unless he was looking for an excuse not to drink.

Max had been drinking.  But Max usually was in situations like that.  He usually was whenever he could manage to find an excuse to.

When the dog finished shitting, his owner looked around for witnesses, then walked away without picking it up.  _Shocking!  Pinedale Police Blotter material right there._  Beck found himself thinking back, picture them arresting him, dragging him away in handcuffs, it will be right under the blurb about the teen who was taken to the ER ranting and raving from the same party. 

_Did you know they were brothers?—TWINS even!  Those Coleman brothers… apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you know._

The drama! (insert jazz hands)

He struggled to remember the details of being arrested Saturday night, he'd been too focused on worrying about Max to have been paying attention to what was happening to him. Did they have lights and sirens?  In front of all of Fiona’s friends and classmates?  Oh, Jesus, are they both fodder for gossip now—the whole fucking family?  He sighed, admitting to himself that they had been fodder for gossip long before that party. 

He imagined what it might have looked like, the spectacle as seen by a bystander, what people witnessed:  Police, red and blue lights in the driveway cutting through the night _…_ the image shifted to a memory _, police lights cutting through the dark. The three brothers standing together, big brother Greyson holding his hand, looking out that big window in the old kitchen… but Max stood alone, though technically the youngest, Max always stood alone.  He was always bravest._

Beck heard his name and realized Amy had been speaking to him. “Did you start this fight?”

He shrugged, “Does it matter?”

Amy nodded, understanding, “You look like you were thinking some big things, just now,” she noted once she’d regained his attention.

Without realizing he was going to, he found himself telling her the truth, “I was remembering my mom’s face when that news camera was on her….” His posture stiffened, regret immediately evident.  He shook it off, watched the fingers sticking out of his plain white cast twitch,

Max had said just that morning that his whole being felt twitchy and heavy, like something dying on the side of the road.  He and Max had never had twin-sense, really… but Beck had a habit of absorbing the emotions of everyone around him. 

“Your brand of empathy is a blessing a curse, Pumpkin,” his mother had said more than once in his life.

Amy didn’t respond to his admission about his memory of That Night™, Beck supposed that she was probably trying to figure out how to convince him to continue talking about his father. Therapists always did have a hard-on for daddy issues.

He rushed on to a new topic, looked to his right, “Can you take that fucking drawing down?  It creeps me out.” 

Amy was a child psychologist, her office bright and cluttered with baskets of toys, stuffed animals, balls, board games, etc.  She had posters of the characters from Inside Out on the wall:  Joy, Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Disgust.  Children’s artwork from patients who let her put them up.  Some of it is was some seriously disturbing shit, but there was a crayon drawing to the right of the sofa that always got to Beck.

Objectively, it was not the most disturbing thing, just a person at the base of a hill, the hill was enormous, there was no top, there was no other side, the person was small, it had no face.  Beck fucking hated that fucking drawing.

Amy allowed the change in topic, he realized with annoyance that she was being careful with him, it pissed him off.  The fact she never put up with any of their bullshit was one of his favorite things about her. “Can you tell me what about it bothers you?” Amy asked.

“It’s crappy and weird, where’s his face?-- now _that_ kid needs therapy.” Beckett laughed, but there was no humor in it and it hurt his head.  He was being shitty on purpose and hated most of all that he felt guilty about it. 

Sometimes he wished he could give less of a shit about people’s feelings, about what they thought of him, he wished he could be unapologetically _himself_ … like Max. Though maybe Max cared more than any of them what people thought, maybe he was just best at hiding it.

Beck stank and he needed to sleep, he’d spoken to his mom for a moment from the ER.  She’d been at the hospital too, but somewhere else, focused on taking care of Max and concerned about Greyson home alone.  At that point, they'd been leading him to believe he was going to jail, and he’d told her to just leave him rather than try to get the money together to bail him out.  She’d put up less of a fight than he’d expected, in fact, she’d put up no fight at all, which kind of stung.  He deserved it though, jail was probably the best place for him that night.  In the end, there had been no bail, no charges filed, no jail, just a trip to the ER where he'd had his bone set with nobody holding his hand, and then being released, again on his own at 3 am to go find the rest of his family upstairs with Max.  Grey had arrived later that morning with McDonald's for everyone and the whole family had spent the rest of the weekend, there beside Max's bed, notably  _not_ talking about it.

He wanted to go home, get a shower, sleep… he needed to call Fiona and see if she was mad at him, call Mia and make sure she was okay. He looked down and realized he’d been twisting Mia’s friendship bracelet, the skin of his wrist was angry and red.  He turned it over to see blood where he’d pulled the edge of the braided threads into his skin without noticing.  He hadn’t even felt it.  The realization made his heart lurch and he pulled his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie, anxious that Amy would have thought he was self-harming if she had noticed. Beck’s hands were shaking.

 _“I’m falling.”_ Max had said, once when they were in the room alone together, his voice too fragile and quiet for belonging to loud, bright, Maxwell Coleman, _“I don’t know how to stop it.”_ Beck hadn't known either, he just sat there searching the face that looked so much like his own, feeling useless.

Amy was too quiet too, she was refusing to push, leaving it up to Beck.  He wished she’d stop treating him like he was fragile.  Grey was the one who was gentle and careful, Max was outgoing and strong, Beck was quiet and angry, those were their role in all of this.  They took care of Gray, Beck was the fuck up, and Max ruled the world.  Beck wished everyone would cut the bullshit and get the fuck back on script. 

According to tradition, the correct response to Beck's bullshit should have been frustration or disappointment.  He had expected Amy’s typical no-nonsense bluntness about his behavior, but her being cautious was unnerving.  He felt like she was treating him like something broken or dangerous.  Maybe he was. 

Then it occurred to him, she felt sorry for him. Why?  Because of Max?  Fuck that shit.  Max was sick and scared and Beck fucked up and they felt bad for _Beck?_ She just sat there staring at him with that damn dent between her brows and it made him feel like he needed to prove something.  He hadn’t earned sympathy.  He reassessed the situation, plotted how to get the upper hand, what would Max have done… normal Max? 

Amy was tiny, and she was wearing ripped jeans and a Nirvana t-shirt she was barefoot and curled up in her office chair.  Beck wondered how old she was, he hadn’t thought to wonder before, when she’s dressed in slacks and a button up, her hair all done up, makeup and sensible flats.  As she sat, she looked not much older than Greyson, he wondered how she had convinced them all to take her seriously as a mental health professional. 

Their meeting was an unexpected appointment, she didn’t work Mondays, she came in just for the Coleman family, an emergency session for all four of them, just across the street from the hospital. 

She probably wasn’t supposed to bend the rules like that, it had probably been the result of their mom having connections, maybe whoever was in charge made her come in for them. She should have been home with her boyfriend… or girlfriend… or her cats or her friends, wearing sweats, watching TV, out hiking or whatever pretty young professionals did on their day off.

 _I_ _’m sorry Amy._

Being sorry didn’t keep him from being an asshole though.  It never did.  Amy looked small and sweet, she looked vulnerable, younger without any makeup.  Her lips were slightly chapped, the asshole in Beck wondered what they felt like.  Max would flirt with her, coming from him it would be charming, acceptable, just Max being himself.  Coming from Beck it might have made her uncomfortable.  He considered the option, wondered if he was that far gone.

Her lips then said to him, “You’re still on probation,” as if he could have forgotten.

Beck’s brain was busy registering that Amy was made of flesh and bone, pliable and warm, heart and soul and everything fragile and how he might use that if he had the nerve to be that horrible.  He had been in therapy long enough to know that he did, long enough to understand that in his natural state, he could only function in a relatively healthy way with her if she stayed distant and clinical with him. 

Authoritarian posturing presented as a challenge, too permissive and you were a target.  Relating to people outside of his family became a game, it made him a different person… no, not a different person, it just exposed who he was, and he owned the fact that he was trash.

“I _know_ , I’m on probation, Amy,” he said, lifting his chin, meeting her gaze, she scowled a little at the change, “they pulled strings for me, I’m a white kid, with connections, in a small upper-class liberal town, I get a billion chances that I don’t deserve.  We knew the girl who threw the party and she did us a favor.”

Beck’s eyes flashed to the clock, to the door, he thought of Grey out there, doing his homework in the waiting room, his appointment having finished 30 minutes ago.  He would be patiently waiting to drive his little brother home, ever helpful, reliable Greyson.

“Did you want them to actually charge you?” Amy asked. Beck thought of his mom home with Max.  His poor fucking mom, she’d done nothing to deserve this bullshit, except maybe pick the wrong man.  The wrong genetic combination resulting in a lifetime of fucking grief.

Beck wondered what he might do to hurry the appointment along so he could go home too, see if he might be helpful, make dinner or something.

“I’m not really thinking anything when I’m like that, Amy, I think at the time I was just pissed and worried about Max,” he reminded her, “I’m thinking the cop just knew who my mom was and did it for her.”  He held her gaze, squared up to her, a challenge. He saw her expression flash, she was onto him.

“According to your mom, you asked the police to call your dad instead of her.”  The words were like ice in his veins. His focus narrowing back onto the conversation.

He struggled to remember, wading through the memory of him trying to be stoic while panicking about his brother, “There’s no way I did that.” The lack of certainty in his voice pissed him off.

“That’s what the officer told her.”

“Not possible, I don’t even have his number.”

“Which is why they didn’t call him,” she explained.  As she spoke, bits and pieces of Saturday night came back to him. They were right, he might have actually told them to call his dad.

“Well, then thank fuck I _didn’t_ have his number, then,” Beck told her, trying to sound light.

“What happened Saturday night, Beck?” Amy pressed, her voice steady.

“I don’t remember exactly," He lied, "but rumor has it that this was someone hitting me,” he said, pointing to his eye, “ and this was me hitting a wall,” he concluded, pointing at his cast. “I suspect that we both had it coming.”  He attempted a smile, but the energy wasn’t there.

“You didn’t hit anyone?” she clarified, she looked relieved, like he wasn’t a lost cause after all.

“I didn’t hit anyone,” he assured her, “and the homeowners aren’t pressing charges for property damage, which is why they let me go.”

“Why did someone hit you, and why did you punch a wall?”

His throat felt tight and he swallowed it down, “I don’t want to talk about it yet,” he told her. This was allowed. She wrote something in his file.

“Okay, tell me about the car window.”  _Oh, that_.

“I can neither confirm nor deny…”  he began.

“Beck, stop,” she said firmly.

He sighed, “I didn’t do anything to his car window,” he sighed… and he lied.  Lies and sighs, sighs and lies _._

She sighed right back, “You’re missing appointments, you’re acting out again… this is a condition of your probation, Beck.  You’re losing the progress you have made since spring. And now with what is going on with Max…”

That inspired him to finally really laugh, “What fucking progress?” he snapped.

She shuffled her papers, “Are you drinking now?  Is this a thing you’re doing?” she asked, exasperated. 

“Fucking evidently! _”_   he yelled at her.  Beck felt prickling heat through his shoulders, the sensation was satisfying.  It was the feeling he got before he felt a fist against his flesh, his knuckles splitting against concrete.  The feeling he got before the release of pain. 

Amy was off her game, and Beck snatched it up.  His attitude was just for show, where the fuck did she get her intel?  He was dry as a bone as if he’d _ever_ drink.  Did she not know him at all? 

“There was a girl?” she asked, pushing forward relentlessly. Beck’s brain stumbled.

“What?” he was flustered and it pissed him off, “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Mia told your mom and she told me, there was a girl at the party?”

“Mia said that?” Beck searched his brain, no, absolutely not. 

_Max._

Amy had her notes mixed up, the result of a rush to handle this mess.  He decided not to correct her yet and shrugged, “Maybe?  What about her?”  It was almost fucking funny and more than a little sad that her mistake wasn't obvious to her.  She'd be kicking herself later, realizing that her so obviously getting this wrong would set them back, but he wasn't about to correct her

“Were you safe?”

Beck scoffed, but then his brain caught, “What?  Don’t be ridiculous,” he told her anyway.

“It seems you may have been very drunk, Beck.”  Shame started to burn as Amy disclosed information about Max to him accidentally.

He hesitated, he owed it to Max to back him up, they could handle this without her help, “I’m fine, nothing happened, none of your fucking business.”

“Beck,” she began.

He tried to keep his eyes on hers, but as guilt burned through his veins, he felt his eyes move unsure, “Wh-who was it?”

_Jesus, he had really sunk low enough to trick his brother’s therapist out of private information?  Would he really not have told him?_

Amy looked a little sad, “Mia might know?” she suggested.

“Nothing happened, leave it,” he said like she was being ridiculous.

“If you don’t remember and you might not have been safe….” 

He rolled his eyes, before cutting her off, “I said _leave it_.”

She took a breath, centered herself  “What _happened_ Saturday, Beck?” Her voice switched back to calm and Beck was disappointed, chaos felt more reliable than calm.

“Fiona threw a party for us for our birthday, Amy,” he told her.

She looked surprised at this, glanced at the papers in her lap, as if he might have been lying, “On Friday,” she said quietly.

“Yeah.” Their mom didn’t mention their birthday when she talked to her?  Beck wasn’t sure why that disappointed him so much, maybe it was just because their drama overshadowed everything good in their lives, always.  This is all they were anymore.

“You are fifteen,” Amy informs him.

“Happy birthday to us,” Beck replied dryly.

=====


	2. Maxwell

 

Max curled in his bed in the dark with the curtains drawn.  That _feeling_ … Jesus fucking Christ.  The news was on, and they were showing footage of some kind of bombing, somewhere pale and dusty, he wasn’t really paying attention. 

His insides were cold and empty.  He needed a drink, that's usually how he dealt with this part.  Just a little bit, maybe Beck had some weed, that might help, just to take this edge off.  Internally, he was stuck in flight mode, his body expected something horrible to happen, but he was incapacitated. He felt as if his limbs weighed too much for his bed to support his body.  No matter how many deep, calming breaths he tried to take, his heart beat so heavy that it moved his body.  He could hear the sheets under his ear rustle with every heartbeat.  The space between his shoulder blades ached… his jaw ached.  _You’re having a heart attack._   His brain assured him. _You’re dying._ It occurred to him that he should maybe call for help, but he couldn’t move.  _It’s just as well._

This feeling.

Fuck if he hadn’t earned it though.

There was a knock on his door. He didn’t answer.  It was Mia, he not only knew her knock but knew she would be there when she was needed, he always needed her.  Sometimes he could feel her position relative to him in the world like a literal thread held taut between them.  He knew she would come in, even if he didn’t answer. And she did.

She paused by the door, letting her bag slide from her shoulder into the floor.  Max usually felt something when he saw her, but he felt nothing.  She sighed then her nose wrinkled.  “It smells like ass in here,” she said, pushing her smooth white hair behind her ear, “it’s like the fucking Swamps of Sadness.”  She nudged a pile of dirty clothes with the toe of her canvas Mary Janes, “Artax?  You here?” she joked. 

A tiny spark ignited briefly deep inside Max’s brain, spitting like a wet match, but it didn’t actually make it to even quirk the corners of his mouth.  She didn’t seem to expect it to.  She crossed the room and glared at his TV, bodies strewn across the pavement, being dug out from under the rubble, women in headscarves wailing, children with flat affect, covered in blood and filth, “Fuck,” she muttered then fumbled behind the flat screen for the power button.  She accidentally switched the input for a moment and his Xbox came to life, she pressed again with a scowl and it went dark. 

Max’s eyes adjusted, but she opened his blinds, then the window, crisp air and bright light blew through his room.  He closed his eyes, not able to find the energy to move away.  Through his eyelids, he found himself in shade again and opened them to see that Mia had pulled the curtain far enough to shade his face.

She took off her jacket and threw it over the foot of his bed, placed her fists on her hips, she was wearing her oversized _Tired Feminist_ shirt, it was soft and well-worn, Max borrowed it sometimes, Beck did too actually, but Max liked it better when he borrowed it back from _her._ Max thought he had it in his drawer and found himself wondering dully when she stole it (back).

“I’m going to cuddle you now,” she threatened.  He wished she wouldn’t.  He wished she’d go home.  Then he changed his mind and wished she would cuddle him and never stop, but he didn’t think he could handle it, also he didn’t deserve her, not to mention the small fact that she not so secretly would rather have cuddled with Beck.  The conflicting thoughts sucked what little energy he had.  He was anxious that she’d try to take this on, make this her failure, and he couldn’t comfort her, not then.

“I’m not going to say shit else,” she told him like she’d read his mind, then concluded, “yet."  She sat on the edge of his bed, toed her shoes off and crawled over his body.  It hurt, deep into his bones, not just the jostling, but the contact of her soft body, slight, but solid and warm against him, and the affection she was giving freely to him.

She pulled his gross blankets down and laid behind him, curling her arm over him.  He wanted to tell her not to, but he didn’t have it in him, his skin hurt.  He felt guilty for needing her and guilty for not wanting her, guilty for enjoying her company when she’d maybe rather be elsewhere. 

He knew he smelled, he hadn’t showered in days, he had been liquored-up, hotboxed in a den of weed and God knows what else they were doing in there, he’d been sweating and throwing up and lolling in the dirt and in hospital beds, and according to Beck, he may have had sex with someone he didn’t even remember.  Mia, more than anyone, knew all of that though, and without hesitation, she curled against him anyway, her nose pressed into his shoulder.  She smelled like fruit, she smelled like orange Tic Tacs, she was soft and sweet and composed, tucked in and proper, clean and crisp, fresh and flawless. 

Last time he remembered seeing her she had not been _that_ Mia, he got a brief flash of memory, he was looking up from the floor maybe?—muffled music from outside of the dim room, the smell of vomit so distinct his stomach cramped up even at the memory of it.  She was pressed against a wall with someone’s mouth on her throat, she looked wild and rabid, her pupils blown, high on something, and all bright lips, smeared lipstick, flushed cheeks, and hair stuck to her sweaty ivory skin. 

He didn’t even know who it was sucking at her pulse point like a vampire, she probably didn’t either.  She was looking directly at him.  Deep in his stomach there is a twinge of desire, God, he’s so gross, that memory was not sexy, it was disturbing.  He was a fucking mess as a human.  He shoved the image away. They didn’t talk much about Other-Mia, nobody did.  She and Max were more alike than different, a statement that wouldn’t have surprised anyone, but nobody even understood how true that was. 

They were always shocked that she and Beck were actually the ones that were best friends.  Surly, angry little troll that he was, and sunshiney Mia.  It made sense that she and Max hung out, both loud, life-of-the-party, popular, active in school clubs and athletics.  They’d look at Mia and Max and say “two peas in a pod,” but they didn’t know.  They were both experts at hiding.  They pointed their anger inwards.

=====

Max woke up, it was dark, his bed was empty.  He went to the bathroom, his skin felt full of broken glass instead of muscle, bone, and blood.  He went back to bed.

=====

He woke up.  It was dark still… or maybe again.  His mother was beside the bed in her scrubs she handed him pills and some water, a soft, tired smile.  He lifted his head to take them and laid back down.

“Hungry?” she asked.

Max didn’t answer. 

She took a plate from the nightstand that he didn’t know was there and replaced it with a fresh one.

“I love you, Peanut,” she said before she left the room.

Max was awake for a long time, just staring at the wall, his brain refusing to let him sleep.

=====

He woke up.   He went to the bathroom, his bones hurt.  He went back to bed.  There were pills on his nightstand, he took them.

=====

He woke up, it was bright outside.  He heard voices downstairs. His skin was raw. There were no pills.  He went to the bathroom. He watched the sun move across his room.

=====

He woke up, it was dark, Mia was behind him, sleeping.  There were pills.  He took them, then went to the bathroom.

=====

When he woke up, it was daylight outside.  He was alone in his bed, the space behind him cold.  But he could see Mia at his desk, she was curled over her textbooks.  She wore a soft navy-blue sweater; his little lamp threw her profile into darkness.  She sensed he was awake and turned with a small smile, “Is the lamp too bright?” she asked.  The air was fresh, but his room was still a disaster. 

“No,” he managed, his voice was gravely from misuse and mistreatment.  He got a flash of a memory of himself screaming at some point, much to the joy of whoever was his audience.  Was he on someone’s roof?  He could picture the faces of those who cheered him on below him, but from a balcony, maybe?-- big smiles, smoke from a cigarette, sloshed drinks, a phone pointed at him.  Christ, it was all on video.  He remembered watching his shoe tumble over the edge of the roof.  “Am I missing my shoes?” he heard himself ask.

“What?” she asked, her smile confused.

Too much effort to explain, “You don’t have to be here, Mia,” Max told her.  They had this conversation every time, it was pointless, but they have it anyway.  He wanted to tell her to go home, to go next door and visit with fucking Beckett, like she really wanted to, but he also needed her there.

“There are pills,” she told him, nodding to his nightstand, he went ahead and took them.  “It’s quiet, I can study here,” she said, but he knew her house was quieter. Mia got lonely, it was her default emotion. “I’m hungry, you hungry?” she asked. 

“No.”

“Okay, I’m going to make a sandwich. I’ll be back.”

She crossed to Max and placed a kiss on his greasy forehead, his eyes snapped closed.  Her hair was cool and smooth against his face.  He got a whiff of orange Tic Tacs again, but he knew it was actually her lotion.  The smell lingered when she walked away.  It was Naked Bee, Orange Blossom Honey scented lotion, he knew because he bought it for her.  He did every time he saw it somewhere.  She must have had 100 bottles of it all bought by him. He heard her steps as she descended the staircase. 

Max went to the bathroom, his body ached so fucking much. Distant voices, downstairs, her own and then another lower pitch.  Either Beck or Grey, he guessed probably Grey.  Beck stayed in his room whenever possible.  Max went back to bed.

Her feet were on the stairs again, he knew the sound of her feet on the stairs. She was back quickly, carrying two plates. They must have already been made.  She placed one on his nightstand, pushing aside another plate with chips and sliced apple on it.  Max didn’t know where it came from but it had obviously been there a while, untouched.  The apples had turned brown at the edges from the air.  A couple of fruit-flies had already found his food, they scattered when she moved the plate.  She didn’t say anything about them. 

Mia sat on the side of his bed again, turning slightly towards him and made a show of eating her sandwich in front of him.  Full red lips slid against fluffy white Wonder bread.  Long dark painted lashes brushed her cheeks as she closed them, she sighed like it was the best fucking sandwich anyone had ever eaten. 

He realized she was silently encouraging him to eat, and he loved her for it.  His heart gave a weak spasm of affection.  He loved her so much.  He must have made a sound or sigh or something because she looked down at him, big clear sea-glass blue eyes clicked onto his, and soothed his raw soul like silk.  She smiled a little around her full mouth, white crumbs of bread and a little mustard at the corner of her lips. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Hi,” he said back, and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

She finished her mouthful of food.  Max watched her throat move as she swallowed, her collar bones sharp.  She was too thin.  She was only eating for him, he knew she restricted her food.  She had for years.  She wiped her hand across her mouth and Max followed it, a small smear of yellow and red against her smooth white hand.  She looked at him again, “I sure do love you, you know,” she said.

Max didn’t answer, it wasn’t the same, what she was saying. 

The door opened without any kind of announcement and Grey is there, their mother’s green eyes and straight brown hair, older but smaller than Beck and Max, rumpled, buzzing, he was always full of buzzing energy, he exhausted his mother and Beck with his nervous constancy. “Hey,” Grey said casually, as if everything was as it always had been, and he started to collect Max’s dirty clothes from the floor, shoving them into his overflowing hamper. 

Max wanted to protest but it took too much energy.  Mia watched him, peacefully, took another bite of her sandwich, chewed, swallowed.  “Grey, did you hear back about the paper yet?” she asked him, finally, then took another bite. 

“Yep, I’m in,” he told her, seemingly unimpressed by his success, and started collecting dishes.

Mia brightened, squeaking around her food, she swallowed quickly, maybe choking a moment before placing her long white hand against her chest, her nails were chewed to shit, “Grey, that’s great!”

He shrugged, “Jack and Margo helped,” he said, dismissing whatever accomplishment Mia was recognizing.  Max didn’t know what they were talking about, and only vaguely knew _who_ they are talking about.

Mia rolled her eyes, waved Grey off, “Oh please, survival is all about connections.  Plus, have you ever known Jack to do _anything_ he didn’t want?” 

Grey paused, arms loaded with dishes, he seemed to be considering what Mia had said, “True,” he allowed.

“True,” Mia confirmed, and gave him a determined single nod, “well, that’s amazing, congrats.”

“I’m going to take these out,” he informed them, blunt and awkward.  Mia just grinned at him, used to Grey and his ways.

“Mmm,” she said, taking another bite after Gray had left, “this is good, sure you don’t want a bite?” she offered. Max shook his head and she shrugged, “Suit yourself, more for me.”

“What is going on with Grey?”  Max asked.

She paused a moment, her eyes brightening, though she didn’t look at Max, he could tell she was excited that he was engaging, “School paper. Your brother submitted some work to try to get in and he made it.  Jack is on the paper and we know him from Pride, so he’s acting like that’s the only reason he got in,” she scoffed.

Pride Club, previously the Gay-Straight Alliance. Grey and Mia both joined in the 7th grade, while Beck and Max were still stuck in elementary school.  Mia had two moms… plus with the number of times Max had seen her with her tongue down some chick’s throat, he reasoned she was also probably at least bisexual herself. 

Grey?— Max didn’t really know, he was a bit of a mystery.  He’d never said anything, he had just announced he was joining and didn’t elaborate, and nobody imposed.  Even though Grey was 16, Max had never heard him express any romantic or sexual interest in anyone of any gender, Mia probably knew, but she’d never out him.  Max supposed he could be asexual, but he had recently taken to openly reading _T_ _his Book is Gay_ by James Dawson, every-damn-where he went, so his money was more on gay than Ace.  Whatever, not Max’s business, he supposed.  Grey didn’t _have_ to come out, not in their family, not in their town.

Max realized that Grey was doing well.  That was good.  Somebody should be.  He noted that if he wasn’t so self-involved, he might have already known what was going on in his life.  He wished he had been able to obsess a little bit less about his own crap and given his brother the damn time of day. 

“How about a shower?” Mia had asked him, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Go home,” Max told her.  There was more to the sentiment… something gentler and more thankful and with more depth… something about not deserving her time and energy, but _go home_ had fewer words.  Also, maybe Max deserved for her to be angry at him.

Instead, she sighed, looked up at the ceiling, “Yeah, maybe,” she said, eyeballing the cobwebs, even on his best days Max was a slob, “Beck and Grey are home now, so I should go, but I’m just a phone call away, okay hon?”

Max didn’t answer.

“Okay,” she said, brightly, as if he had answered.  She leaned down and kissed Max’s cheek.  He felt sorry for her nose because even he could smell his breath.

=====

Max woke up.  He was alone in his room, his door was wide open, he liked his door open, it made him feel less alone.  Beck and Grey always kept their doors shut.  Max slid his eyes around the room, it was still cluttered as always, but his laundry basket was empty, clean clothes folded on his dresser, and his plates were gone.  A glass of water and a small bag of chips were on his nightstand. Beside it was a little plate with his pills and a note that said  _EAT ME_ in Mia’s sharp handwriting.  Max swallowed his medicine, choking it down with a sip of water.

He rolled over and looked out the window it was either dawn or dusk, he couldn’t tell. The first or last light just there on the edge.

=====

He woke up. The family's big fat black cat, Nox, was asleep in the crook of his arm. Nox was technically Grey’s cat, but he only loved Max, and would only stick around when nobody but him was home.  Max put off going to the bathroom until he couldn’t stand it anymore because he didn’t want to disturb the cat.  When he finally got up, the house was dark and quiet. He avoided the mirror, went back to bed. No pills, he drank some water. Nox fit back into the curve of his body and his rumbling purr grounded him.

=====

He woke up.  Nox was gone. The sun was bright in his window. 

“Mornin’ Sweetpea,” Mia said somewhere behind him, Max reasoned it was either the weekend or not morning, though because otherwise, she should have been at school.  He rolled over his shoulder and found Mia sitting at his desk again, she had on black fitted pants that ended mid-calf and a red blouse buttoned high up her neck, with black flowers stitched on the collar.  He knew that shirt, it was cropped, when she wore it, he couldn’t stop staring at the soft pale span of her stomach, that small mole on her hip that he wanted to press his thumb against, that he _had_ pressed my thumb against.  He couldn’t see it then, she had her knee pulled up, curled around her textbooks.

“You study more than any other human being, ever,” Max told her.  There were more pills on his night table.  He went ahead and took them.

She looked back at her books, but she was smiling.  He knew she was happy he was talking to her, and it made his heart flutter, “Well except for Grey, he studies more,” she corrected him. “Bex never has to fucking study,”  she said but her tone was fond.  Max felt guilty for being jealous of it, for feeling jealous that she had a pet name for his brother.

“Well, some of us have to actually _work_ to maintain our grades,” he told her, “plus, you and I have to focus more due to our tendency towards general weekend debauchery.” 

She laughed a little dryly, “No shit,” she murmured.

“I’m falling behind,” Max told her.

She sighed, “You’ll be okay,” she then turned to him, eyes narrowed, “I know you’re more worried about soccer, just admit it.”

“I’m more concerned about soccer,” he admitted.

“You’re an integral part of the team, man, they love you… and your doctor has talked to the school, it will be okay.”

“Dear Principal Reigner, please excuse Maxwell Coleman, he recently lost his shit.”

“Hey,” Mia scolded, “your shit is intact,” she assured him.

Max was quiet for a moment, “How embarrassing was it?” he asked her finally, searching her face for the truth.

She looked at him steadily, “You seemed to be generally fucked up… I don’t think anybody really knew anything.”

“What will I do if they do?” Max disliked the wariness in his voice.  He only ever dared be like this around Mia, and sometimes Beck.

“Maxie,” she said, but it wasn’t an answer, and she said nothing else.  _Maxie._

Max was quiet, “Did you hear?” honestly, he could have been about to say anything, and whatever it was she probably had, in fact, heard it already.  She waited, letting him say it anyway, “New working diagnosis, lucky me, they are thinking bipolar.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“You know who else has bipolar?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“My dad,” he told her anyway.

She nodded, “You’re not him, Max.”

“I’m so him, Mia.”

“Wasn’t he, like, not diagnosed until he was 30?”

“Yeah.”

“And hasn’t he done well since he was diagnosed?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Max’s voice was bitter and he hated it.

She just continued, “Yeah, I’ve heard he has… still an asshole, but that’s just him, not his bipolar, plus he had like fifteen years of substance abuse compounding everything, so they had to unwrap that mess too and he’s _still_ doing okay… except for being a general asshole, of course.”

“ _I_ have substance abuse compounding everything,” Max reminded her, “and I’m kind of an asshole.”

She smirked at him, “Bullshit, _you’re an asshole_ … that’s Beck’s job, and even _he’s_ a fucking teddy bear dressed up in asshole’s clothing.  None of you Coleman boys fool me, I’ve got your number,” she told him proudly.  Max noted she left out the substance abuse part.

“I’ve got to pee,” Max announced.

“Awesome, you do that,” she said, turning back to her homework.

Max went to the bathroom and while there he drank some water… he drank a _lot_ of water. He’d never notice he was thirsty or hungry when he got like this.

He opened the door and Mia was blocking his path, his eyes instantly dropped to the wide slash of white skin below her shirt, that mole on her hip, the perfect place to rest his thumb, “Get naked, you hot, stinky, sexy pile of teenage man,” she ordered, her voice teasing and sultry.

Over her shoulder, Max could see his mom stripping his bed.

“You’re taking a shower,” Mia informed him, "your stench is bringin' all the boys to the yard."

They were Max-managing dream team.

=====

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments keep me motivated, people. I'm open to plot bunnies if you think of something that inspires me.


	3. Greyson

 

Grey was a witness.  That was his role in general.  People did and said things around him that they might not around other people and he took the information and filed it away.

Their mom was doing laundry, Beck was hiding in his room, and Max was _in_ the shower with Mia, which was an interesting development.  He had walked by the bathroom carrying his own laundry basket and found the door wide open.  Upon hearing him pass, Mia had thrown the curtain open to address him, “Can you shut the door, Grey?” she asked, standing there long and slim and pale, drenched while still wearing her underwear and bra with the water streaming around her.  Max had leaned forward, peering around the curtain at him, their eyes met and Max looked as shocked as anyone at what was going on.

“Don’t worry, we’re not naked,” she had assured him.

“Okay,” Grey had answered, no other response making itself available to him.

“Not that there’s fuckall to see,” Mia added, her voice self-deprecating as she clasped at her own breasts in her soapy hands.  There was no way to not look at her boobs when he was squeezing them, “This bra is purely for my ego… and everyone’s seen my junk anyway,” she said and reached her hands up to scrub shampoo into Max’s hair.

“Not recently,” Max corrected her, the angle of his hair washing forced his chin down and his gaze was plastered to her chest seemingly without his permission.

“I think I fucked up my knee again, somehow on Saturday, did you see me hurt it?”  Max was asking her as Grey closed the bathroom door.  He took his clothes down to the laundry where he found his mother.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore,” she was saying into her cell phone as if Grey wasn’t there at all. She held a towel under her chin and dropped the edges long enough for them to line up, “I’m so fucking tired, Deb.  Everything is out of control and I’m out of ideas,” she was quiet as her friend spoke to her somewhere on the other side of the phone.

Grey just helped her fold clothes, not three feet from her, yet invisible.

 “Yeah, that’s fine, I need to go anyway, I’ll talk to you later Debs.”  Grey watched his mother hang up the phone and drop it on drier with a clatter, she sighed and ran her hands through her hair.  She paused to kiss Greyson on the forehead before scooping up a pile of folded laundry and heading up the kitchen stairs.  Grey dutifully followed with the rest of the clean laundry.

He dropped his clothes on his bed and watched his mother knock on Beck’s door, he opened it a moment later and silently took his laundry before attempting to close the door again.  His mother’s foot caught it and it bounced back open, “You’re on dinner duty,” she told him and he didn’t protest, he simply slid past her, eyes cast to the floor, his hood still up, despite the fact it was plenty warm in the house.

“Where're Max and Mia?” their mother asked and Beck nudged his thumb at the bathroom door.  Grey stood silently taking in the way his mother’s face dropped, “She _in_ the fucking bathroom with him?” She knocked on the door before opening it, “Are you in the _shower_ with Max, Mia?”

The curtain whipped open again, showing Mia still in her wet underwear, “We’re not naked Jenn, it’s okay,” she said brightly.  Mia did a little wiggle dance as if to prove that everything was casual and there was nothing to worry about. Her eyes then fell on Beck with a small smile, “Hi, Bex.”

He gave her a weak wave and turned back to their mother taking in her scrubs, “Are you coming or going?”

“Going, unfortunately,” she told him.

“I’ll hurry and get dinner done so you can eat before you go. Can Fi come over after dinner?” Beck asked their mother, “It’s for Max, not me.”

“Of course,” she told him, pushing his curls under his hoodie, “and she’s your friend too, isn’t she?”

He pulled his head away gently, “I wasn’t sure if I was in trouble,” he said to her and everyone fell silent.

Jenn glanced between them all, “No, I don’t think that will help anything, do you?” she asked.

Beck shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t know, mom,” he said honestly.

Grey watched his mother’s arms twitch at her sides, as if she intended to hug Beck, he must have noticed too because he turned and slumped down the stairs. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she called after him, “for making dinner.”

Jennifer ran her hands through her hair again, she seemed to be centering herself, “Mia, get your little ass out of the shower!” she snapped before following her son down.

Mia ignored her completely, scrubbing her fingers through Max’s hair as she talked, “Grey, there’s a party next week for Austin’s birthday.  Will you consider going?”  Grey watched Max swipe water from his eyes so he could scowl at her.

There were probably several reasons for the scowl:  Firstly, nobody ever invited Grey to parties, knowing he’d just say no anyway, second of all, another party?  Had she learned nothing from inviting the Coleman brothers?  And thirdly, “Austin Terzi?”  Max wondered out loud.

“I know right?”  Mia asked brightly.

“I didn’t know he was back in town,” Max asked, “does Beck know?”

_Yes._

“Probably not,” Mia said lowly and poured soap into a washcloth, “but I think he should go, could you talk him into going?” she asked Grey.

“After what happened at the last party?-- I doubt it,” Grey informed them.

“He might go if you go,” she told Grey.

He shook his head, “You know that’s not my thing.”

Mia pouted for just a moment before giving him an understanding smile, “I know.”

“Is Austin back in town? Like… for good?” Max asked.

_Probably not._

Mia shrugged, “When is Austin anywhere _for good?”_ she tugged on Max’s arm to make him lift it.  He flinched as she ran the washcloth under his armpit and she smiled a little at the reaction, before continuing, “Though I heard from Naomi that he refused to sign the contract for season five of _Lost Night,”_ she told them, her eyebrows raised at the shock value of the news she was sharing.

“That shit show,” Max mumbled.

“That _shit show_ got an Emmy nod this year,” Mia reminded them.

“Austin asked us not to watch so I haven’t seen it,” Grey admitted, he was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, the stress of the past few days, thinking of how Beck would take the news of another party, the rush of the water, the echo of their voices in the tiled bathroom, the glare of the bathroom lights.  Grey reached over and turned them off, the gesture earning little more than a glance from either Max or Mia, even though this meant they were showering in near darkness.

Mia wrinkled her nose in the now dimly lit bathroom, “I admit I’ve seen it.  Austin is one of the few redeeming things about it, though it’s funny to watch him be like this street kid badass…”  she lowers her voice to a whisper, “he reminded me of Beck, to be honest.”

“Dinner is ready!” Jenn called up the stairs, “Is Mia still in that fucking shower?  Your moms are going to kill me, Mia, _get out_!” 

“We’re done anyway,” Mia called back and stepped out, pulling a towel around herself.  She pulled the curtain shut, leaving Max inside, “Wash your junk, I’ll bring your clothes,” she told him and walked past Grey in the hallway.

“I’m going, be _good!”_ Jenn yelled up, “Mia, you’re staying over?”

“Yeah!” Mia confirmed, from somewhere in Beck’s room.

 

Grey entered the kitchen just in time to watch their mom’s minivan drive by the window over the sink.  Beck was leaning against the counter, pulling rogue threads from his cast, “Leftovers,” he announced as Grey came into view.

“Mia wants us to go to a party next week,” Grey told him, lifting the corner of the plastic wrap to peer into the dishes on the table, meatloaf, spaghetti, corn, maybe a single serving of green beans from the night before.

Beck snorted, “Yeah right.”

Grey watched his brother as he added, “Austin’s birthday.”

Beck didn’t look up, “Is Austin back in town?” he asked innocently.

Grey hesitated for a moment, he knew this game, but it was difficult for him to play, he shrugged, “Mia says that he didn’t resign with HBO for that show.”

The corner of Beck's mouth quirked, and Grey knew he'd done it right, “That shit show,” he muttered, going back to picking the edge of his cast.

“It got an Emmy nod,” Grey parroted.

“You sound like Mia,” Beck told him and rubbed his finger under his nose, he looked down at his cast like he forgot it was there again, “I bet his parents flipped the fuck out when he refused to sign.”

“Probably,” Grey said slowly, he watched Beck’s expression darken.

“They’ll talk him into going back, they always do."  There were footsteps on the stairs, and the game abruptly ended, “Let’s fucking eat.  I put good effort into microwaving this shit,” Beck said pushing himself off of the counter.

“Max went back to bed,” Mia said with a sigh as she rounded the stairs, Beck’s eyes slid over her, and Grey noted that she was wearing Beck’s sweatpants and blue hoodie, “He’s not quite all back yet.”

“Did you get him into Grey’s bed?” Beck asked.

“Yes, I at least did that.”

“Let’s all eat up there then,” He suggested and Mia nodded, dishing up her plate with warmed up spaghetti. 

Grey just watched them for a moment, nobody ever asked him if they could hang out in his room, it just kind of happened.  He had the biggest room, the cleanest.  He also had a king size bed.  He didn’t really mind, at least he was included.

“Don’t touch my stuff and pick up after yourself,” Grey reminded them.

“I’m going to touch the fuck out of all of your shit, Grey,” Beck told him and Mia snorted as she dropped two cans of Coke into the front pocket of the hoodie she was wearing.

Grey was almost certain he was joking or perhaps playing the game again, but his anxiety still rolled under his skin, “We won’t touch your stuff, Grey, it’s okay,” Mia reassured him.

“Can you get my Coke too, Mim?  Fucking cast,” Beck muttered.

“Sure, Babe,” she chirped and slipped her hand under his arm from behind to tuck a can of soda into his own pocket, she pressed her front against his back and flashed him a flirty smile in response to their proximity, earning herself a rare smile from Beck.

"Dork," he said fondly.

 

Grey took a few minutes to get his own dinner situated before joining everyone in his room.  Once he got there he found Max already asleep, curled in his bed and facing the wall.  Mia was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed facing the TV and eating her food.  He parked himself at his desk just as Beck entered, arms full of Xbox components, “Look who I found,” he announced and Fiona appeared behind him, holding her own plate of food.  She was still in what she wore to school, looking composed in that classic American teenager kind of way she had about her.  Designer jeans, long dirty blonde curls in a ponytail as usual. She and Max were, on the surface, the stereotypical high school power couple.

“Whaddup?” she slurred around the fork she held in her mouth and moved immediately to Grey’s bed to sit against the headboard beside Max, “Max, hon?” she called to him and he raised his head to look back at her, “Hey,” she said gently and he rolled to put his head in her lap to go back to sleep.  Fiona held her plate awkwardly over his head and began eating.

“What’s up with this party?” Beck asked.  Fiona seemed to know he was addressing her, even though he had his head hidden under the entertainment center attaching wires

She sighed, “Full disclosure, it’s a theme party, but shut up, because afterward Austin is having a little private thing, but don’t tell anyone because it’s just us special beans who are personally invited,” she added, her voice conspiring, as if Fern and other undesirables were lurking under Grey’s bed eavesdropping on their conversation.

Mia gagged dramatically, “Fucking _theme_ party?  Has Austin finally conformed to your bougie pod-people culture?”

“It’s Fern’s doing, smartass,” Fiona informed her, “and besides, theme parties aren’t all bad, the theme is _Spring,_ wear some fucking pastels and flowers and shit and come drink champagne for a god damn hour until we shake the losers and go to Austin’s house.”

“Fucking Fern.”  Mia mumbled, taking a controller from Beck.

Some music from Mario Kart started and Beck immediately muted it, “Sorry, Grey.” 

“I don’t mind, I’ll just have my headphones on, I have work to do, but Max needs to sleep.”

Everyone turned to Max as if just remembering he was there.  Mia reached up and squeezed his foot through the blanket and Grey noticed Fiona’s eyes snap to the point of contact.  Fiona always seemed to want to lay claim to him, but this was the first time she’d visited Max while he was awake since the shit hit the fan at her party almost 10 days before, and Mia had been there every day. Grey watched Mia withdraw her hand and turn back to the TV. 

He pulled his headphones on and turned to his desk, his pens, his ink, his latest calligraphy project taped to a board before him.  He curled over his work and felt his anxiety start to seep out of his fingertips into the paper.

============

Grey woke up.

The room was dark, he could feel the weight of a body somewhere behind him and turned to find Max curled away from him and around Mia beside him. Mia’s pale hair was bright in the dark room, she was wearing Beck’s t-shirt, her bare limbs draped over the edge of the bed towards where Beck slept, curled up smaller than seemed possible in his nest of blankets on the floor.  Max was spooning her tightly, his arm heavy over her ribs, knees tucked behind hers, face buried against the back of her neck. The window above them showed the sky pinking up in the early morning.  There were pills on the nightstand with a glass of water, set there by someone for Max to find when he woke up.

Grey slid out of bed and looked back at them before pulling his bedding back over Mia and leaving to use the restroom.  When he turned off the bathroom light he could see light coming up the stairs and went down to investigate, picking up some laundry strewn down the stairs. 

When he reached the bottom, he found his mother standing, drinking coffee in front of the sink, looking out the window, still in her scrubs, “You just get home?”  He asked her and she jumped. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“That’s okay, I was zoning out I guess,” She boosted herself up onto the countertop, her stupid sensible nurse shoes bumping against the cabinet.  She looked young anyway, but sometimes Grey forgot how young she really was. She’d been just 17 when he was born. They put her through too much.  How different her life would be without them… without even just him.  She might have moved on from their father if she hadn’t gotten pregnant, or even if he’d just been an easier baby.  She might have gone to college, back then, met someone better, her whole life could be different. 

“Stop, Grey,” Jennifer said suddenly, snapping Grey out of his spiral of thoughts, “everything is okay.”

He watched her drink from her favorite chipped mug, “Don’t drink coffee, mom, sleep,” he ordered.

She sighed, “I’m trying to decide if it’s worth it.  I have to go back in three hours for a shift in labor and delivery.”

“Of course, it’s worth it.  It’s safer for you and for them.”

“I know,” she looked down at her coffee then offered it to him.  He took it, but then just poured it down the sink.

Jennifer watched him from the counter, “You take care of everybody, Greyson.”  She noted.

“I like to,” he explained.

“I’m not sleeping well,” she confessed.

Grey just nodded, poured himself a bowl of cereal, “Max is going to be okay,” Grey told her.

“You think?” she asked, even though she’d just said so herself.

“And Beck.”

“And you?”  She asked.

Grey nodded, “And Mia.”

Jenn rolled her eyes, “That girl.”

“You should sleep,” he repeated.

“You should too, it’s only 5.”

“My bed is too crowded.”

Jenn huffed a laugh just as the drier beeped, marking the end of its cycle.

“Max’s comforter is dry,” she told him, "sleep in his bed."

“Okay,” he sat looking at his cereal, there were things that needed to be said, his throat was suddenly so tight.

“I’m going to bed, eat then you go too, okay?"

Grey waited, still staring at his bowl, “Okay.”

===============

Grey woke up in Max’s room to the sound of the alarm on his phone.

The room was flooded with daylight, but it still seemed dark and empty with few personal touches.  All of the clutter was piles of old paper and random shit Max didn't care about.  Max had purged it last winter, when everyone still thought it was “just” depression and anxiety.  The purge scared their mother and Amy, when his mania was hidden by alcohol and too much weed, they asked him a lot of questions about if he was going to hurt himself.  He had said no, but Max confessed to Grey late at night in the darkness of his bedroom that he wasn’t sure if he’d been lying.  When Max felt better, he didn’t bother to redecorate it.

Max shouldn’t sleep in there, nobody should, it was a room prepared for the occupant to not exist anymore.

He ventured into his own room to find Max sprawled across the entire king size bed alone.  Mia had moved to the floor and fallen asleep with her head on Beck’s chest, his arm curled around her shoulders.   His own room was carefully staged to be what he needed, to be what everybody needed.  A sanctuary.

It was tidy, bright, mature, and personal.  He had matted some of his favorite calligraphy pieces and hung them framed on the walls, his papers were stacked, his photographs of his friends were tacked on his corkboard along with childhood photos of him and his brothers.  His room was hopeful, even if he didn’t always feel that way, his bedroom did.  It was a room prepared to welcome someone home.

He found clean clothes and went to get a shower, on the way he found Nox lurking, looking for Max probably.  He skittered down the stairs when he was discovered.

The upstairs was quiet.  Their mother's room was tucked into the small space behind the stairs, access was awkwardly narrow and the door fit in diagonally so it wouldn't hit the slanted ceiling.  Her room was an afterthought, carved out when their one hundred-plus-year-old home had added a breakfast nook addition off the kitchen. Leftover space for their mother who always seemed to settle for leftovers.  Grey slid down beside the stair railing, past the built-in bookshelves to peer into the dark space beyond.  He could hear her slow breathing and see her hair spread across her pillow.  He pulled the door closed and moved quietly away, avoiding the squeaky floorboard in the hall.

On his way to the bathroom he caught Mia entering Beck’s room, past her he saw Beck’s messy bedroom, and Beck himself flopping onto his bed, ready to try for a few more minutes of sleep before school.  Mia gave Grey a sleepy nod before closing Beck’s door behind her.

Grey was a witness, he was a keeper of information.

================


	4. Beckett

===== 

Beck had two things on his mind: weed and coffee.  He thumbed between text threads as he sat beneath the wild walnut trees below the school grounds, in the hopes of procuring both.

Mia has been needy all day, spamming his phone with texts both nonsensical and profound.

 

_Mimi_

_5:36 am_

_Something woke me up and OMG I love when you talk in your sleep._

_You’re so mother-fucking precious, I want to punch you. XxXx_

_6:30 am_

_Weirdo._

_I find you punchable, also. XX_

_7:28 am_

_Bexxxxx, I miss you already.  Have a good day, see you after school.  David’s being a dick.  People are still gossiping, fucking locals I.Ging everything. I’m about done with him.  x_

_7:32 am_

_That’s bullshit, he’s about done with me.  I’m too much.  Wish I could talk to you. I’m tired of being such a fuckup.  Come to my house after school today, okay?_

_7:34 am_

_I’m sorry about that last text, you don’t need this right now, don’t mind me.  I’m okay. Xxx_

_8:16 am_

_Don’t be ridiculous._

_You’re doing okay, Mia._

_And I’m fine, don’t ever not talk to me._

_11:10 am_

_Hey, just sitting here thinking of you._

_This school sucks with so few Coleman boys in it._

_Grey won’t eat lunch with me, the snob._

 

_12:20 pm_

_just broke up with Dave, that was a disaster anyway. I’m not sad._

 

_12:28 pm_

_okay, maybe I’m a little sad.  I wish I could call you.  I will see you after school._

 

_12:30 pm_

_It’s been a long damn week.  Can’t wait to spend the weekend with you. Xx_

_12:35 pm_

_Wish our lunches lined up, I’d sneak up to eat with you.  Pretend I was Max._

_Sorry about David._

_That’d be hilarious. You’d get to see how the other half lives._

_Stop texting in class, you’re going to have your phone taken away._

_1:32 pm_

_I got my phone taken away._

_Thank god for screen lock._

_I’m bored._

_I need to smoke I know you don’t want Max smoking,_

_I don’t want to smoke alone, I’m not going the Weed Garden by myself like a fucking pothead._

_We need to corrupt Grey.  Can you imagine Grey stoned? LOL_

_Do you think T would be cool with me having his number?_

_Maybe I could meet with him on my own sometimes?_

_Can you ask?_

_2:00 pm_

_I’ll ask T._

_Can you watch your choice of words on text, please you dork?_

_Shit sorry._

_2:11 pm_

_T’s good, so we can smoke, are your moms home after school?_

_Also, did you take my green hoodie?_

_2:20 pm_

_I did, in fact, steal your green hoodie, it smelled like you.  How sappy is that shit? X_

_My moms will be gone until 6._

_I’ll see what I can do, what time is your shit done today?_

_Student council until 3:30_

_Bring coffee._

She hadn’t answered.  He switched text conversations:

_Trevor_

_2:02 pm_

_Trev, Can I borrow $20?_

_2:10 pm_

_Sure, see you by my locker at 2:30?_

_It’s a date._

_;)_

 

_Mimi_

_2:23 pm_

_T’s meeting me in about 10 minutes, I’ll be out back when you get out._

_Thank god._

_Bring me one of those fancy coffees you uptown kids drink._

 

_2:28 pm_

_Answer me damn it!_

_OKAY! Fuck!_

 

“Beckett Coleman!”  Trevor called loudly across the grove.

Beck whipped his head towards his voice, watching Trevor cross the field.  He was a rough looking kid, keen eyes and a general aura of someone who’d kick your ass just for the hell of it. “Fuck man, I don’t think they heard you in New York, say it a little louder, not like we have anything low-key going on here,” Beck snarked, sliding his phone into his pocket.

Trevor reached down and yanked off Beck’s hood, “You look like you’re about to shoot up a school, dude, how about you let some sun touch your face some time?”

“Leave me alone, asshole,”  Beck grumbled, ducking away.

Trevor ruffled Beck’s dirty-blonde curls before letting him pull his hood back up, “Have time for a cigarette?” he asked, already lowering himself into the grass below the trees.

“Sure, in fact, can I bum a few?”

“Sure, man.”  He handed him three and raised his eyebrows questioningly when Beck paused at the fact there weren’t more. 

Beck sighed and took his lighter instead, tipping his head against the spring sunshine and filling his lungs with hot smoke. He murmured his thanks and tossed the lighter back.

“How’s your brother doing? —I didn’t want to ask in school.”

Beck shrugged, his elbows on his knees, his eyes turned down on the grass between his feet, “Better.”

“Good.”

“Hey, Mia wants to know if I can give her your info in case she ever wants to buy direct?”

“You can give her my info, but not for that,” he began, putting his lighter and cigarettes back in his pocket, “she’s the opposite of discrete, she can score off of you, add some money to the cost and make yourself some cash.”

“No problem.”

“Mia,” Trevor says with a smirk, “when are you going to get with that?”

“ _Get with?_  Is that your respectful and tender way of asking me if I’m going to fuck my best friend and favorite person in the universe?”

Trevor chuckled, “Sure. That.”

Beck was used to the question, he just inhaled and blew out a smoky  _no._

“She’s hot man, she’s got that tall Scandinavian albino look going for her.”

Beck scowled at him, “What?”

“All pale skin… baby blue eyes…  she’s fucking hot, man.”

“Anyway, no, it’s not like that.”

“Idiot,” Trevor mumbled, he took a deep pull on his cigarette, “Yo, so… I’m failing math.”

“You need some help?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Yeah, fine.”

“I’ll make a deal, pay you in smoke, I already had to repeat, I can’t again.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“When are you leaving our fuckup school anyway?  You’re too smart for us.”

Beck pulled up handfuls of grass restlessly, “It’s not about smart, it’s about shit like this,” Beck said holding up his cast, “I’m supposed to be up for reassessment end of this school year, but not if I keep fucking up.”

“I heard you hit someone at a party in The Hills?”

Beck sighed, “No, I wish… I hit a fucking wall so I  _wouldn’t_ hit someone.”  Trevor laughed at that and Beck shrugged.

“Hm, bet you’re the talk of the town right now.”

“Unfortunately, yes, between my brothers and I, we’re refreshing the bad reputation of the Coleman name.”

“Scaring all the rich kids?” Trevor seemed a little too pleased by the idea.

“Something like that,” Beck mumbled, “though seriously, don’t underestimate them, those kids can be hardcore. Sure, they’re entitled assholes, but they also have nobody giving a shit about them… mix that with too much money and unsupervised time… they can go hard.”

Trevor scoffed, “Poor babies.”

Beck just shrugged, he’d gone a little deep for this particular friend, it was okay, he didn’t need to convince him, “But yeah, we made quite the impression.”

“It’ll be okay, they’ll talk about something new soon.”

“I know,” Beck stubbed out his cigarette and tucked the butt in his pocket, “I’ve got to go, I’m meeting Mia and Grey at the school, we’re getting Max his homework.”

“Yeah, I got work anyway,” Trevor stood up, stretched his back, resulting in a series of satisfying pops.  He groaned, “Shit, if there’s anything I can tell you to keep your brilliant ass in school, Coleman, it’s that manual labor sucks.” 

Beck nodded and stood also, dusting grass from the ass of his jeans, he watched Trevor flick his still lit cigarette into the leaves before pulling a baggy from the pocket of his jacket.

Beck handed him a $20 bill, then bent down to pick up Trevor’s discarded cigarette butt, “Don’t litter, dude,” he scolded, making Trevor roll his eyes.

“Fuckin boy scout,” he muttered, but his smile was fond.

Beck took the baggy of marijuana and held it up to the sun, it was rich fuzzy fluorescent green, he could smell it through two layers of Ziplock bag, “Jesus, that stinks.”

“It’s government regulated shit, thank my dad and the voters of the great state of Washington.”

The corner of Beck’s mouth quirked, “Okay, thanks, Trev, text me later we’ll figure a time to work on your math.”

“Sure thing.”

They parted ways, Trevor heading back towards the community baseball fields to the bus stop, Beck towards the high school at the top of the hill.

=====

Beck boosted himself on the edge of the stone wall beside the gym and flipped through the Instagram photos from Mia’s so-called  _friend's_ accounts while he waited for Grey and her to leave school. He wasn’t technically supposed to be on campus, but they seldom noticed an extra kid hanging out.  Mia was right about the Instagram photos from her classmate’s accounts, they weren’t the only ones in trouble if these photos got in the wrong hands. 

Among the photos of bleary-eyed intoxicated teenagers making out with strangers, puking and bushes, and passed out on floors, were photos of Max, Mia, and himself. 

He made himself comb through them, looking for clues, making himself feel his regret and shame.  What was funny was that the party was technically for Max… well, and him, since Beck was part of a package deal, but not many guests knew it.  Fiona and her sort would have a party for any fucking reason, Fi put the word out, and suddenly there’s a rager in The Hills at her place.

Max knew people, obviously, they were partly his crowd, and Mia knew people, she had connections and was an honorary Hills kid, of sorts, even though she lived in town and was middle income.   

Beck, on the other hand, had spent most of the night being mistaken for Max.

_Seriously? —a twin? There’s two of you? How did we not know this?_

Hills kids generally knew better than to record and share party details, like Mia, they had futures and reputations to protect, the photos were from outsiders like Beck, pulled in by second-hand invitation. 

Beck found Mia in way too many photos.  No wonder Dave freaked out.  He wondered if they’d get back together, they tended to break up almost monthly, only to get back together days later. Dave didn’t like Beck much… or Max for that matter… he was actually a decent guy, so the feeling wasn’t mutual.  His distrust of the Coleman boys when it came to Mia was understandable, they had questionable boundaries, and outsiders seldom understood how they all fit together.

Beck found a photo of Max with a brunette hanging on him, he didn’t recognize her at all.  He checked the time, realizing Mia should almost be done, he sent her the photo,  _Is this her?_  he asked.

His phone buzzed: 

_Mimi_

_No, not her, do you want deets?_

_Maybe… I feel like he should know and he won’t ask._

_He should have a heads up if something happened_

_and he will need to deal with this_

_Especially with Fi._

_She won’t tolerate this if it gets back to her._

_I’ll find out._

_Low key._

_Obviously.  I got this. X_

He slipped one of the two cigarettes he bummed from Trevor between his lips more out of habit than anything, leaving it unlit.  It had been a long week.  The kids at his school generally didn’t care when their classmates got into shit… the fact that they got into shit was why they were all at the Alternative High School in the first place, none of them had been invited to the party anyway, so the rumors that had worked their way into Beck’s peer’s gossip were vague and inaccurate, and nothing anyone cared about. 

He was still stressed, though, everything was tense at home, he was worried about Max and feeling guilty about his own contributions to his mother’s stress.  At that moment he just wanted to be near Mia and feel better. 

“Hey there,” he heard a smooth voice beside him. He looked up to see a girl wearing her inheritance in clothing.  She was vaguely familiar, but it was a smallish town, everyone there was familiar.  Her hair was glossy and flowed around her head like silk, dark at her scalp and fading to blonde at the tips.  She was holding an iced coffee, she had a diamond tennis bracelet, Beck didn’t doubt it was real.

He texted Mia again quickly, _DO NOT FORGET THE COFFEE!_

“Can I have a cigarette?”  the girl asked, undeterred by Beck’s silence.

He was confused as to why she might assume he smoked until he remembered the unlit cigarette between his lips.  He recognized her voice and realized they had probably met before, maybe more than once. 

The safe way to go was to ignore her, so he didn’t answer.

His phone buzzed.

_Mimi_

_3:24 pm_

_Okay, so I had Rahel snoop around and she says that nothing happened between Max and Steph._

_They just made out, she apparently handled his junk, third base shit, the rapey bitch._

_But he’s still gold, Ponyboy._

_Steph was her name? Who is that?_

_Send me a pic when you have one?_

_Sure.  So, what’s the plan?_

 

Beck removed the cigarette and chewed at his lip for a moment in thought, feeling the girl’s eyes still on him.

 

_Tell Rahel it wasn’t Max, it was me_

_Get that circulating._

_I’m not going to do that, you idiot._

_Why not?  Everybody confused us all night long_

_even our therapist has it fucked up_

_I don’t give a shit what they say about me._

_Help Max out._

_You’re being stupid, he wouldn’t do this for you._

_I don’t care, please do it._

_Fine._

 

“I know you,” the girl told him, leaning against the wall beside him.

“Probably,” Beck muttered to her. 

The girl chuckled, leaning against the wall beside him, “You waiting for Mia?”

He finally looked up, wondered if blowing smoke at her would make her go away, “Yeah.”

“Got another cigarette?” she asked again.

He considered her for a moment, it was his last one, but he went ahead and gave it to her.  He dug in the bottom of his bag for a lighter and helped her light it, before lighting his own.  They stood in silence for a moment, she mostly just held hers though, he realized that she probably didn’t actually smoke, and regretted wasting it on her.

“That’s quite the shiner,” she said finally.

Beck just nodded at his phone,  _Be good._  Mia texted him, and he scowled.  She acted as if he couldn’t behave himself for five fucking minutes.

“I saw that happen,” the girl was saying to him, gesturing to his face.

He sighed, “You and everyone else, it seems.”

“You go to Cliffside?” she asked.  He just nodded. “You guys are coming to Austin’s party at our place, yeah?” she asked. 

Beck finally placed her, “You Fern’s sister,” she smiled, “so you’re Austin’s cousin?”

“And therefore, Mia’s cousin… kissing cousins as they say,” she said with a wink. 

 _Who the fuck winks?_.

“How West Tennetucky of you,” Beck complimented, and her smile widened, “which one are you?”

“Not Willow or Lark or Meadow,” she supplied, then, with a smirk.

“Fuck how many of you are there?” he mumbled.

“I remember you, I mean from back in the day, even.” He didn’t know what she was implying but didn’t like it.  His skin crawled.  She was predatory.

Just then, Mia rounded the building with Grey in tow, and Beck slid down off the wall, overwhelmed with relief to see her.  Mia’s cousin looked up at him, expectantly, standing too close.

“Excuse me,” he said, walking past her. “Hey, Mimi,” he said with a sigh, she tried to hand him his coffee, but rather than take it, he just hugged her, trying not to burn the back of her jacket.

She huffed in surprise.  She couldn’t hug him back with her hands full of coffee, but just feeling her against him, the tension began melting from Beck’s body.  “You okay?” she asked quietly, her voice muffled in his jacket.  Beck pulled back and took his coffee, moving his cigarette back between his lips.  Mia made eye contact with him, reading his eyes, then looked past him.

“Fuck off, Wren,” she sighed at the girl.

“Fuck you, Mia,” she said back conversationally.

Beck finally gave Grey some recognition, “Hey Grey,” he said, inhaling the steam from his coffee deeply.  Grey had his nose in a book and barely looked up to acknowledge him.  The coffee was the good stuff, between the PTA, donations from all of the fucking rich people, and the tax money from millionaires and legal weed, their district was rolling in the dough.

“Why are you here, we were meeting at the stairs,” Mia said to Beck, but she didn’t wait for an answer before physically pulling him and Grey to fall into step beside her, “I’m hungry, let’s go to my house, I have food,” she suggested, then plucked the cigarette from his fingers.  Beck watched her take a quick drag as they walked, bright red lips soft around the filter.

“That’s how you get herpes,” he told her, watching her smoke his stolen cigarette. She looked sexy as fuck when she smoked, but, like him, she usually only did so at parties.

She smirked, “ _That’s_  how you get herpes,” she corrected, nodding towards Wren, and Wren flipped her off, Beck snorted in laughter.

Mia dropped the cigarette under her toe, grinding it out, and Beck frowned at her, “Hey…” he complained and immediately gave in to his impulse to retrieve the butt where it littered the cement.

“Don’t smoke cigarettes, it’s 2017, only trash smokes cigarettes,” she admonished, but she was talking to Wren who was looking awkward as she tried to casually smoke walking beside them.

“What the fuck, Mia?” she scoffed at her, “You can be fucking mean.”

“Will you go sniff some other guy, you thirsty mess,” she said to Wren, and Beck winced for her.  Wren blushed and sputtered, but Mia had already pulled Beck away towards the front of the gym, boosting her bag over her shoulder, it looked heavy, so he took it for her without a word and she let him, holding his coffee for him as he did. 

“Wanna help here, Grey, Jesus,” Beck huffed and Grey just lifted Mia’s jacket from over her arm and stood with it while he continued reading.  Mia laughed at that and Beck shook his head.

As they redistributed their belongings, a group of jocks in soccer gear came around the edge of the building chatting among themselves.  Beck recognized the guy at the front, a stocky guy with auburn hair, he couldn’t quite place him though, it seemed like that was the case with everyone these days.

“Yo! Maxie!”  one of them called out, stepping forward

Another player caught his jersey, “It’s not him, it’s his brother,” he explained.

“Dude, there’s two of him?” another kid laughed.

“Don’t start shit, Beck, let’s go,” Mia said to him, her long fingers pulling at his sleeve.

He looked at her, “Who is it?  How do I know him?”

She scowled, confused, “Really?” Beck shrugged, “You harassed him at the party until he punched you in the face, Beck, you psychopath.”

Beck perked, amused, “Is  _that_ what he said happened?”  he scoffed, and turned back to the kid, he’d had a baseball hat on at the party, front-to-back like a douchebag, but it was him, he had seemed taller, “That little stocky bastard? I’m impressed.”  The group was coming closer.

“Just ignore him, Evan,” someone muttered.

“Yeah, just ignore me, Evan,” Beck echoed, Wren grinned at him, enjoying the drama.

“Stop, Beck,” Mia begged, pushing him back.

 _Mia, huh?  If you’re going to fuck that trash, make sure you double bag it, man._ Beck’s neck prickled at the memory.

“Fuckin’ prick,” someone spit at Beck.

“Isn’t he banned from campus?” someone else asked lowly.

“Beckett Coleman is a public nuisance!”  Beck confirmed, “Let’s hug it out,” he offered, and stepped towards Evan as he passed, feigning like he was going to hug him. 

This action was judged as threatening by all present, apparently:  Evan flinched, Grey’s voice was pure panic as he called his name, and Beck suddenly found himself surrounded by soccer uniforms and shoved into the brick wall.  He didn’t blame them, it’s not like he didn’t want to smash his face in. His cast hit hard, pain shot up his arm, and his coffee fell to the ground splashing across his shoes.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, a cold thrill jolting through his bones.

_Pain is a fucking high._

Beck forced his fists to open, he wasn’t going to hit anyone, but he might get hit, his body prepared for pain.  He’d never understand why he got off on that, his abdominal muscles tightened, his head turned to avoid a straight-on hit. He glanced over to check on Grey and felt guilty for the fear in his eyes.

Mia stepped between them, “Jesus, stop it, ignore him, he’s like a villain from some crappy teen drama on CW,” they let go of him and backed up.  Mia looked back to Beck, “And it’s fucking  _old.”_ Beck rolled his eyes at her, she was so serious _, "_ Fuck you, Beck, seriously.  You’re not going to fight anybody, you’re being a massive shithead and I’m sick of it.”

“CW villain, I like that,” he muttered, he hated when she was mad at him though. He looked down at his shoes, soggy and smelling like hot coffee.  He never got to drink his god-damn coffee.  He looked back up at the boys as they kept walking.

At the edge of their group, was a tall olive-skinned boy with amazing black curls held back by a blue bandana, matching their soccer kits.  He watched him as he glanced back at him, his warm brown eyes meeting his, curious and wary.   Beck moved his eyes away, but not before the boy’s blonde friend noticed the exchange, “Hey, his curls make you wanna change your ways?” he teased, ruffling his friend’s hair.  Wren choked on her iced coffee, in response. 

The boy looked startled and his eyes flew to his friend with a scowl, then to Mia, before whipping his head around to look away, his curls bouncing.  “Seriously, ten points to Gryffindor, right?” the blonde kid called back. 

_Right._

The boy with curls shoved his elbow into his friend’s ribs with a glare.  The blonde hooked his arm around the kid’s ribs, comforting or teasing, but he was shoved away.  He didn’t seem to take his friend's anger seriously though because he turned again, walking backward, “Yo, Coleman, tell Max to hurry and come back, the team misses him,” he requested.

Beck just nodded, but at the same time, Grey said “Okay,” behind him and he realized he was probably speaking to him.  He tried to keep his eyes off of the boy with the curls but failed, watching them walk around the corner.   

When he turned to Mia, he was already saying, “Who….” but she was gone, having stormed away from him, it was only Wren, rolling her eyes like Mia was such a drama queen, and Grey who was just standing there, looking startled. Beck’s anxiety upped another notch.

Beck chased after Mia, with Grey on his heels, leaving Wren sputtering as they passed her.  “Wait, I’m sorry,” Beck called after Mia, catching her elbow, she yanked away, but slowed, letting him walk beside her.  They crossed the parking lot together and he felt anxiety building in his shoulders until she hooked her arm through his, and he was able to relax.  Neither of them could stand to have the other angry at them.  Beck realized it wasn’t completely healthy.

“We have to go to school with these people, Beck,” Mia said finally, “there is a time and place… and this isn’t it. We  _know_  these people, and they are mostly really awesome if you’d stop fucking it up.”

Evan was not  _awesome._ But he knew what she was saying, “I know,” he admitted and held her hand, she let him.  She didn’t say anything else, but then she pulled him to a stop.

“Are you not going to try to get back into school?  I thought you were lonely.  I thought you wanted to be with me and Grey.”  Beck looked down at her, their toes touching.  Her eyes searched his, she looked sad and disappointed.  Beck hesitated and she noticed, “Oh,” she breathed and she started to walk again. 

_Shit._

Beck pulled her still again, back beside him.  He pushed her hair back behind her ears, “I do.  I’m sorry. I’m…”   _self-destructive… damaged… an idiot… “_ A fucking mess, I’m sorry I’m like this. I am trying, I swear. I’ll try harder. I just don’t want to be disappointed if I fuck this up.”

She sighed, pushed his hair back, hands sliding under his hood, “I know,” she said to him, “I get it.” She pulled on one of Beck’s loose curls and let it fall back into place, nowhere near as impressive as the kid by the gym, “Your curls make me want to change my ways,” she told him and Beck smiled, “ten points to Hufflepuff,” she added.

Beck gawped, “I’m a Slytherin, I beg your pardon!”

She scoffed at him, “Oh  _please.”_

“And Caleb is absolutely a Ravenclaw,” Grey added.

“Caleb?” Beck asked.

Mia laughed, “Oh, my God, he totally is.”

They started walking again, Mia holding Beck’s arm tight, their sides pressed together.  None of them had realized when they lost Wren. 

=====


	5. Maxwell

The idea of returning to school was a bit overwhelming, to say the least.  Luckily it was Saturday and there was soccer practice, so Max had a chance to wade back in rather than being thrown into the deep end.  He wasn’t completely stabilized, but everyone’s advice was that he’d feel better if he got active again, and he wanted and needed to get his life back to normal… whatever that was anymore. 

He stood by himself at the curb as he always did when he was doing this shitty thing he did, not ten feet away, Beck and Grey stood against the fence, waiting for Mia to arrive to go downtown to do whatever it was that they were doing today without him. It was fucking stupid to be waiting for Fiona to come pick him up while treating Beck and Grey like strangers, not even offering to wait for Mia and give them a ride.

They, all three of them, would have offered to go with him to this first practice had he asked, but he didn’t, and they didn’t offer, because he would have said no.  He wouldn’t even walk with them to school... ever.  Beck didn’t go to their school and they had still gone to the trouble to rearrange their schedules so they could to walk him to his campus before continuing to theirs.  Meanwhile, Max pretended to not know them and left them behind while he got a ride in Fiona’s brand-new SUV.

No wonder Mia preferred Beck.  Max admitted he was shitty, but wasn’t sure what to do about it.  He’d worked hard to get where he was. 

It had once been a sensitive subject, well with Mia anyway, Beck just shrugged him off ‘not surprised’ he’d said that first day, Grey had pretended not to even notice, Mia though, Mia had ranted, “you’re not too good for anybody, Max,” she’d reminded him. 

But that was precisely the problem wasn’t it? 

As it was, he was having to bribe his girlfriend into reluctantly coming with him to practice.  He’d had to beg her to pretend it was her idea to sit in the bleachers and watch this first practice back when in reality she’d had plans to go to out to the islands with her rich friends for some cookout.

Mia didn’t bother getting mad anymore about being snubbed by Max, nobody even blinked when Fiona pulled up and Max climbed in, nobody said a thing.  He saw Mia coming up the street as they pulled away.  Fiona sighing and reminding him that she’d had plans and still did once she was done _holding his hand_ through this.

It was a fucked-up way to treat the few people who actually legitimately gave a shit about him, but it kept the bullshit to a minimum. He was feeling raw and vulnerable and would have liked nothing more than to prepare with them that first day while walking the half mile to the school, but the shit he would have had to then deflect from his friends and teammates wasn’t worth it.

He was protecting them… at least that’s how he convinced himself that he wasn’t completely worthless.

Fiona left him at the locker rooms texting idly on her phone as she continued towards the fields without a word.  There would be other girlfriends there, the clingy types she didn’t like to associate with too often, Fiona didn’t need to sit in the bleachers to gaze at her needy boyfriend, she had her own life.  Usually, he appreciated her independence, she was an actual friend above all else, but just not _that_ type of friend.  Sometimes it would be nice for her to _choose_ to be there when he needed her, not because he made her.

The locker room was always quiet and orderly before an actual game, but before a practice, it was loud and rambunctious.  Caleb Gutierrez always said a lot of team bonding happened in the locker room around practice and after a game, in response to which some of the others had made ridiculous homophobic jokes.  Not with Caleb in the room, obviously, nobody dared behave like that around him.  Cal was often left out of both the best and worst of the crap the rest of the team got into, which was both a benefit and downside of being captain.

As he opened the door, the room quieted, obviously thinking it was Cal, but upon seeing it was Max, the room erupted in cheers and jeers, “Boooo, fucking slacker!” someone teased.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I got mono from your mom,” Max informed everyone in general, dropping his bag on the bench. 

A few people laughed at that, but the laughter from Evan Wilkes, was tight and sarcastic “Ha-ha, a mom joke, how refreshingly original.” Max’s neck burned, but he nudged him as he passed by, as if playing along, “I heard you were gone because you hooked up with Mia Cooper at the party and instantly caught every sexually transmitted disease at once,” Evan told him innocently.  There was an uncomfortable scattering of laughter from some of the other team mates and Max’s skin crawled, he made himself laugh it off though.  Getting defensive just fueled the fire.  He turned his back to him instead and started to get changed.

“Shut your fucking face, Wilkes, you piece of shit,” that would be Jeremy, because he was a better person than Max.  Max turned to see Jeremy slamming his locker closed, his babyface red and looking like he was ready to beat the shit out of somebody.

Evan only rolled his eyes, “Oh, I forgot Gut’s girlfriend was here, you going to tattle, Jeremy?” he asked sweetly.

“Isn’t it exhausting trying to prove what a big man you are all of the time, you shitbag?” Jeremy asked.

“Come on guys, Jesus,” someone called over the arguing.

“Seems we need to practice some teamwork, right?”  Max heard and turned, Caleb stood beside the bench behind him, already fully dressed out in his gear, likely he’d been on campus for hours already.  He was at that moment frowning at the whole group, they immediately became silent. “I’d like to for once come into this room and find you’ve managed to tie your own shoes without being at each other’s throats,” he added, “maybe some group Hell-sprints would help remind us we’re in this together?”

“Fuck,” Evan sighed, dropping his street shoes into his bag.

“It’s okay, Wilkes,” Caleb said clapping him on the back, “you have all that surplus _stamina_ you’re always bragging about.”  Nobody laughed this time.

“Come on guys,” Jeremy agreed, quickly, standing and leading the group to the door, he was further cementing his reputation as suck up, but again, he was a better person than Max and didn’t seem to care.

“Max, hold back, please,” Caleb called, and Max paused in tying his shoe to watch the rest of the team filter from the room.  Max didn’t miss the warning glare from Evan.  As soon as they were gone Caleb sat down, “Do you need to tell me what that was about?” he asked, probably already knowing Max wouldn’t squeal.

If he did, Caleb would have to dole out some kind of consequence to Evan, and probably Jeremy for breaking rules of conduct they’d all agreed to when they joined the team, but he wasn’t going to be the one to rock the boat, he never was, “Just bullshit, it’s fine,”  he told him.

“I’m sure,” Caleb said, sounding doubtful, “how are you doing?”

“I’m fine, glad to be back,” he answered honestly.

“Mia says you maybe reinjured your knee?”

_Of course, she did._

“It’s fine, felt a little stiff last week, but it’s okay now.”

“You get it looked at?”  Caleb asked eyebrows pulled down in concern.

Max finished tying his shoes and admitted he hadn’t.

“Okay, coach said if that was the case you should sit out until you do,” Max’s eyes shot up to meet Caleb’s in a panic, but Caleb continued quickly, “don't worry, I talked him down on the condition that you give it about 75% today out there and come back with a note from your doctor before next practice.”

“Thanks, man.”

Caleb stood, tidying the locker room as he moved, without thinking, shutting a locker, picking up a shoe, always the caretaker of the team, “Did you get out at all while you were gone?”

“No, not really, not unless marathoning FIFA with my brother counts.”

Caleb laughed, “I wish,” he joked, “want me to start dropping by in the mornings so you can run with me again?”

Max stood finally, uncomfortable with the extra attention, “Sure, that would be cool.”

“Alright, be ready by about six, I’ve started to keep a change of clothes in my locker, I just end my run here and get a shower.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do the same,"  Caleb moved towards the door to the field, "Starting Monday?”

Caleb paused, considering, "I run every day, but join me on Monday."

"Okay, yeah, okay,"  Max agreed.

“Awesome, see you out there,"  he started out the door, but turned, "make sure you do a good warm up, even if it makes you late,” he said, knocking on the nearest locker.

“Sure thing, boss,” Max agreed and leaned back against the lockers as soon as Caleb had left.

When he joined the team on the field minutes later he saw Caleb out there with everyone else running Hell-sprints, he started stretching and his eyes searched the bleachers for Fiona.  He found her looking bored at the edge of the group of girls gathered there chatting to one another, she gave him a sarcastically excited wave, then flipped him off before giving him a genuine smile and going back to her phone.

At least she was honest with him, honest and trustworthy.  Better than some of the girls like Isla Rogers, who was dating Evan, but flirted with everyone on the team, especially him whenever left alone with them.  Isla was there in the bleachers when he looked away from Fiona, and she was watching him right back.

=====

Fiona dropped Max off at his driveway and he waited until she left before moving down the street towards Mia’s house as instructed in the text he’d found on his phone after practice.  Even through text, he could tell she was pissed at him, but when Mia called, Max showed up.

If you looked out Max’s window, you could see Mia's house. When they were kids, they could see her bedroom window year-round, but a tree had grown between them since then that blocked the view except in the winter. As it was, he could only see the roofline of her little house until he was right in front of it a few minutes later.  He didn’t bother with the front door and instead used the side gate to enter her backyard.  He could hear her and Beck laughing before he could see them, but it died as he rounded the corner.

“Oh, he deigns to grace us with his presence,” Mia called across the yard to him.

“Hi,” he responded grimly as he neared the trampoline where she and Beck were seated surrounded by textbooks and paperwork.

“But we’re good enough to do your homework for you, you uppity asshole,” Mia snapped at him.

“You’re actually doing my homework?”  he asked, putting his head through the netting.

“I only agreed to help if we also made sure you actually _learned_ this stuff,” Grey’s voice came from somewhere nearby and Max found him seated beside a tree behind the trampoline.

“I’ll learn it, I promise, thank you,” he said and seated himself on the trampoline.  Mia shot him a dirty look and he saw her notice he was still in his practice uniform, she just went back to whatever she was working on though.

“I’m going to start running before school again, so I left my clothes at school to have something to change into afterward,”  he explained even though she never asked.

Mia just hummed.  Max rearranged himself to kick off his shoes and as he settled, some of the papers slid his direction from his added weight, so he picked it up to look over it.

It was his math homework, probably done by Beck because he was freak and liked math, and it smelled distinctly like marijuana, they’d smoked recently.  It made sense they hadn’t waited for him to do so, not only was it not his drug of choice, but he knew they were trying to not to do things like that around him.  His medication reacted badly with other substances, he even had to monitor his caffeine consumption these days.  He understood it wasn't personal, it was medically necessary, but it still sucked to have yet another thing he was being excluded from with them.  It occurred to him that maybe he deserved to feel this way for excluding them.

“You have to copy it over again in your own handwriting,” Beck said without looking up at him.

“I’ll also have to get some of this wrong if they’re going to believe it’s mine,” Max joked, hoping to ease the tension.

“Or you can actually _learn_ it,” Grey reiterated. 

“I promise I’ll learn it, Grey,” Max assured him patiently and finally Mia cracked a bit of a smile.

Mia was the second smartest person Max knew, next to Beck.  She was only 15, same as them,  but she went to Kindergarten with Grey, back when she was still in foster care and first placed with her moms.

She’d wheedled her way in a year early and stood next to Grey in line alphabetically, they were also the two kids who needed extra support in class.  Mia decided she was going to marry Grey, then she met Max and decided he was just as marriageable, then met Beck who was even smarter than her or Grey and that was the end, he was the one for her. 

Max had spent the next ten years wishing she’d pick him again.

In the second grade, Mia was invited to test for advanced classes, she was going to refuse because it meant going to a new school away from the Coleman brothers, but then she found out Beck was taking the first-grade version of the same test and she agreed, officially picking Beck over everyone.  They both tested well and were accepted.  The next year they were both were in a separate school from Grey and Max and separate classes from each other. 

That was also the year they tried to place Mia back with her birth mother, though that was short-lived.  It was a difficult year for everybody. They all barely saw each other and were forced to make other friends, which was probably good for them, they’d always been a little too dependent on each other.  Every day after school, though, they’d ditch everyone else and either she or the boys would run the five blocks between their houses to see each other. 

That felt like so long ago, everything had changed since high school.

Mia and Beck were quiet on that trampoline, refusing to continue their conversation and Max couldn't help but take it personally, “Are we still doing that May Day party thing tomorrow?” he asked Mia, just for some way to engage her.

She looked up at him, surprised, and for a moment his brain got excited to have her attention, “ _Really?”_ she asked, “You’re going to hang out with little ol'  _me_ _?”_

Max sighed, “Come on, Mia, you know how they are, your friends are the same way,” he said quietly and didn’t miss how Beck looked up at him.

“Oh, don’t act like you’re any different from those assholes, I’d never treat my _actual_ friends like you do,” she snapped, glaring at him.

Beck interrupted, “Stop, for fuck’s sake, guys!  Mia, I’m stoned and I know you have Skittles, I can’t focus on anything else,” he told her, and tried to scrub his hands through his hair, he seemed to have forgotten his cast again and scowled down at it before letting it drop back into his lap.

She allowed him to distract her, “Fine!” she sighed and rolled across the trampoline to her purse, everything on the trampoline slid and mixed towards the shifting of gravity. 

Max watched her dig in her purse, it was something designer, no doubt, something she had been given to her by one of her rich friends, and Max thought back to the My Little Pony purse, she used to carry around.  He vividly remembered standing with her under a streetlight last Fourth of July, her digging through that My Little Pony Purse for gum, it matched her shoes, she had on a sundress with yellow daisies and red leggings, and a Rainbow Brite skateboard. He almost kissed her that night.

She had been both adorable and a massive eyesore.  Since mixing in with Max’s group, she’d become totally different, collecting hand me downs from her wealthy friends, looking sleek and stylish, but honestly, also trying to keep up with the nonsense of a group of people who didn’t give a shit about her welfare.  Max missed the old garish, awkward, dorky, Mia. He regretted every day that either of them had started hanging out with those people.

Max watched as Mia scrambled across the trampoline and took Beck’s hand, she turned his wrist and poured him some Skittles. She then, seemingly out of nowhere, leaned her head down over Beck’s hand.  Her stick-straight white bob fell like a curtain, brushing against Beck’s wrist, and Max watched in fascination as her tongue reached out to touch his palm briefly to take one candy back.  Max felt a sympathetic shiver go down his spine and looked up to see Beck smiling at her fondly. 

Mia paused when she noticed Max watching, “He likes eating his candy in twos,” she explained with a shrug.  As if proving her point, Beck reached down and fished out two matching Skittles and popped them in his mouth happily.

“Let’s hurry up and finish, my moms will be home soon and my whole fucking family will be taking over our house for the rest of the weekend,” she said, moving back to her place in front of Max’s history book with her highlighter.

Max decided right then and there that if Mia and Beck weren’t already fucking they would be any day, he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle that when it happened.

=====


	6. Greyson

=====

Grey wished he could talk Margo and Jack into meeting at his house instead of theirs, they had a dog, they had a dad, their house smelled wrong, their lighting was weird, they had a fish tank that was too loud and the air felt too humid, it couldn’t be healthy, that fish tank releasing… spores… or whatever.  He could feel the wet slimy cold skin of the fish all of the way across the room and tried not to breath in too deeply.

He stood in the middle of their living room, refusing to sit on their couch as he waited for one or the other of Jack and Margo to show up. Their dad sat there watching him with this curiously friendly smile.  They’d met countless times before, but he never felt comfortable around other people’s fathers.

The dog was watching him too.  Some dogs didn’t like Grey, he had a theory that he was baseline too nervous and they picked up on that.  To dogs, Grey was always guilty of something.  The dog growled lowly, and Jack and Margo’s dad hushed him, “I don’t know what’s up with this dog,” their dad said apologetically.

“Some dogs don’t like me, I have a theory that I’m baseline too nervous and I think they perceive that as some kind of guilt,” he informed the man who scowled and nodded, considering the information.

Grey wished he could bring Beck with him, or even Max, keep them by his side like companion animals, he smiled at the thought and Margo’s dad raised his eyebrows at him questioningly.  Grey stopped smiling… maybe Fiona wasn’t always enthusiastic about it, but she’d show up if Max needed her to have his back, Beck could always rely on Mia to be by his side when he struggled, she’d be there for Max too, Grey would bet money she’d be there for him too, as messy as Mia was, she knew how to take care of the people she loved, and she loved Grey too.  Grey had friends who would always have his back, but not always, not all of the time.  He kind of wished he had someone to just follow him around just as a wingman for life in general.  

“Good morning, Grey!”  Margo called happily as she skipped halfway down the stairs.

“Hello, Margo,” Grey responded, relieved that they could go to her room. He had known Jack for two years but had only met Margo a handful of times, last time had been in her room talking about his submission pieces, and it had been calm and clean and comfortable.  The dog wasn’t allowed in there.

“Come on up,” she called to him, turning to go back upstairs again, and he followed her.

“See you later, Greyson,” their father called after him, he just raised his hand and followed Margo.

Jack and Margo were twins, like Beck and Max, but unlike Beck and Max, they were fraternal, obviously since one was male and the other female, they also looked nothing alike.  Jack was tall with almost black hair and eerily bright green eyes, Margo was small with light brown hair and hazel eyes.  Both were quite popular and being friendly with them had made school a lot more comfortable for Grey this year.  “Jack is on the phone with Alice, he’s trying to fit in both finishing the May newsletter _and_ getting some project for Pride going today?”  she glanced back at Grey as they climbed the stairs, reading his face to see if he knew what she was talking about.

“Yeah,” Grey confirmed, as usual, he didn’t elaborate, and Margo laughed.

“Okay…”  she said with a shrug, “anyway so he’s trying to get both things organized before this afternoon because he wants you involved in _both_ , and you evidently have something going on this evening?”  she looked back at him again as they made their way down the hall and he again just confirmed that he did, in fact, have plans without elaborating.  “Hm,” she said thoughtfully, pausing in the hallway beside her bedroom door, “I bet you’re good at keeping secrets.” 

He just stayed silent, wishing she’d hurry up and take them into her bedroom, “Margo, open the door, stop lurking in the hallway,” Jack said as he came down the hallway.

“I was just telling Grey here that he seems like a good keeper of secrets,” Margo told him.

“That’s fucking weird and random, I thought we had a deal that you confine your weird random behavior to the four walls of your bedroom, not in the hallway,” he told her, then winked at Grey.  Grey liked Jack.  Most people liked Jack, actually.  Jack was a senior and was considered good-looking and intelligent and popular and cool.  He wore black biker boots and leather jackets and had a septum piercing, none of which meant anything to Grey, but it seemed to impact everyone else.  Jack was editor of the newspaper as well as president of the Pride Club, he was openly bisexual and had been dating Allen Mullins who was prominent in the drama and arts crowd for almost four years (on and off). 

Margo sat herself at her desk and Jack draped himself over her bed, opening his own laptop, Grey sat himself on Margo’s floor (where there was a notable lack of dog hair) and started to unpack his bag, laying everything out around him, “You’re so organized,” Margo told him.

“Can you stop analyzing, Greyson, you meddling asshole,” Jack snapped at her, she flipped him off casually and went back to her laptop.

Grey pulled out his notebook while Jack and Margo worked on the layout for the newsletter, looking over the notes he’d gathered from the different clubs and the list given to him by the office.

“You’ve looked at the template we use for the newsletters, right?”  Margo asked Grey.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Do you want to have a go at it?” she asked, but Jack made a noise from the bed.

“Would you mind if we did that another time,” he asked, sounding tired.  Margo huffed, so he continued, speaking to Grey, “Sorry, I know you need the experience, but I want to get the newsletter done before we go meet with Alice, and tomorrow we have to start the May issue of the paper  _and_  show up to the girl's soccer game, I’d rather deep throat a fucking May Pole than have to get up early to finish  _this_ and then spend the whole rest of the day dealing with all that other bullshit.”

“Deep throat a May Pole?  I’m sure someone could help you with that,” Margo muttered, eliciting a smirk from Jack.

“You don’t like covering the games?”  Grey asked, he personally hated the noise and crowds, but everyone else seemed to love it.

“Not my favorite,  school sports have a tendency to polarize students socially, it ends up a popularity contest, and I don't like contributing to that,” Jack explained, his disappointment so convincing that Grey wondered what he was missing because he actually knew a lot of people in school sports and very few of them were what anyone would call  _popular_.

Margo was not as easy to persuade, “ _Popularity contest_?” she sputtered, sounding scandalized, “The girl's soccer team is literally the lamest team that existed anywhere,  _ever._   I don't know how you can be such an elitist prick and such a fucking loser in the same sentence," she said rolling her eyes.  Grey scowled at that, Naomi was probably the nicest person in the entire school, and she was on the girl's soccer team, and Jack knew that.

“You just don’t see it, Go,” he said sadly, and Grey found himself nodding, even though he didn’t at all agree.

Jack’s father called from downstairs, and he groaned, swearing under his breath, “Hold on, fuck, we’re never going to get this shit done,” he sighed and left the room.

Grey watched him go, when he looked back, Margo was watching him, “You have the hots for my brother?” she asked.

Grey considered it and Margo smirked, “No,” he answered honestly, but Margo continued to look at him knowingly.

“Everyone lusts after my brother, he’s ridiculous, I don’t get it,” she informed him.

“I’m not lusting after your brother,” Grey told her.

She narrowed her eyes, reading his face, “You’re either a good liar, or you’re telling the truth.”

Grey turned as he heard a recognizable voice coming up the stairs, “Oh fuck, it’s Mia,” Margo sighed, and Grey eyed her carefully, Margo rolled her eyes, but schooled her face just in time for Mia to burst into the room,

“Margo!” she said happily and immediately moved to sit in her lap, Margo grinned back convincingly, throwing her arms around her and Grey’s spine prickled at his need to protect his friend.

“Hello, Darling, I’ll give you a crisp dollar bill for ten minutes in my back seat,” Margo cooed against Mia’s temple in some weird version of an East coast accent, something like Katherine Hepburn.   

Mia hummed, before responding, “I only take Loonies these days, the economy being what it is,” she said dramatically, in the same accent, and it took Grey a moment to realize she meant Canadian currency.

Mia stayed balanced on Margo’s thin knee, towering over her but looked to Grey, “Hello, Greyson, how’s my favorite Coleman brother?” she asked him.

“Liar,” Margo said, and Mia promptly left her lap to sink onto the floor beside Grey.

“I’m fine,” he told her.

“We were discussing how everyone lusts after Jack,” Margo said slyly, sitting back in her seat to watch how everyone responded to the topic.

Mia sat back on her hands, gazing with sarcastic fondness at Jack, “Yeah, Jack.  Jack, Jack, _Jack,”_ she sighed.

“Mia, Mia, _Mia,”_ he sighed back and smiled at her and Margo grinned, satisfied as she started working on her laptop.

 _“Jack!_ ” Mia stage-whispered, nudging Grey in the side too many times, “No one is safe!” she said wide-eyed.

“Can we actually work?” Jack asked though he was obviously already working.

“Look at his eyes,” Mia cooed, “like fresh cut grass in the springtime,” she sighed, and Margo snorted at her laptop. She leaned into Grey’s ear, “Totally his type,” she explained in a legitimate whisper, and Grey looked up surprised.  He wondered if she was thinking along the same lines as him, but knew better than to ask.

“What are you whispering?”  Margo asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.

“Oh,” Mia sighed, “just a someone who would like Jack… this _person_ is a sucker for pretty eyes, that’s how I’m going to eventually snag them myself, it’s a slow burn, but it’s end game,” she said batting her lashes.

“That will do it… that and that thing you do with your tongue,” Margo teased her and Mia cracked up. 

“No, that’s how I got _you_ , Gogo,” she said licking her lips lewdly, and Grey wasn’t sure if they were joking, but it didn’t matter.

“You know it, Darling,” she said, and reached awkwardly to pet Mia, with her foot.

“Grey, what’s the date for the senior quotes again?” Jack asked, apparently ignoring the banter.

“People ovulate just looking at him, it’s so inconvenient,” Mia said, and Margo laughed.

“May twelfth,” Grey provided, and Jack nodded as he typed.

“Jack gets introduced to someone and _bam! —_ pregnant,” Mia yelled, making jazz hands by her hips.

“Gross,” Margo whined, “Grey are you going to the party at Austin Terzi’s?” 

Mia looked up at him, warning in her eyes, “No, I don’t really go to parties,” he informed her.

“Too good for parties?”  Margo asked.

“They’re just not his thing,” Mia said, voice a little tight.

“They aren’t my thing either,” Jack chimed in, helpfully, “ugh fucking Prom, what’s the date?” he asked.

“Last Saturday of the month,” Grey told him, reading from his notes.

“Jack’s too good for The Hills, _and_ the Prom,” Margo’s voice was condescending.

“Those parties are depressing, and I’m going to Prom, probably… if Allen and I are back together,” Jack said absently, “I need the game schedule, Grey,” he added.

“I emailed them?”  Grey reminded him.

“You and Allen break up again?” Mia asked eyes narrowed.

“Oh fuck, right, sorry,” Jack said to Grey, then to Mia, “You know how we are, whatever,” he shrugged, and Mia hummed thoughtfully.

“Are _you_ too good for The Hills?” Margo asked Grey.

“Can we actually work, Go?” Jack sighed.

“What?  You guys are talking, why can’t we?” she asked.

“I just don’t like crowds,” Grey explained.

“Are you autistic, Grey, is that what you are?”  Margo asked out of nowhere.

“Okay!” Jack said, jumping up, Mia’s eyes snapped to Margo.

“What?” Margo asked innocently.

“We’re leaving, and you can finish this on your own,” Jack announced.

“I don’t mind,” Greyson told them, not sure if that was true, he didn’t mind the question, but the tone… something about Margo was maybe unsafe.  He didn’t get to decide though because Mia gathered his belongings sloppily into her arms and shoved him into the hallway, she took his newsletter notes from his hands, “You’re wrinkling them,” he complained.

“It’s okay, come on,” she thrust the notes at Jack, who took them, then shut the door between them.  Mia helped Grey put his things into his bag. 

“What the hell, Go?” Jack’s voice was angry behind the door, and Mia pulled Grey further down the hallway.

“ _Jesus_ , psychopath, it was just a question,” Margo snapped back, voice muffled behind the door. 

It opened, and Jack appeared, “Let’s go, it was so nice of Margo to offer to let us handle the game tomorrow, and she’ll do the _whole fucking newsletter on her own!_ ” he yelled.

“Drama queen!” Margo yelled back, and Jack slammed her door.

Jack smiled at Grey, “Ready?  Alice is much better company,” he said, and he raised his arm as if to sling it across his shoulders. Grey could feel his hand hover above the back of his neck, his skin prickling in anticipation, but Jack dropped his hand again.

Jack was okay.

“I don’t think I like your sister,” Grey told him.

“Yeah, me neither,” Jack said and led them down the stairs.

+++++

Alice’s house was uptown, like Jack’s but not quite in The Hills.  Alice didn’t answer the door, Ollie did, and nobody was surprised, Ollie and Alice were a set, you seldom ever saw one without the other.  When Grey first met them when they were all twelve years old, he had thought they were both boys, he had been wrong. 

Ollie had her brown hair cut in a pixie, and still did dress much like, as she said, _an atrocious frat boy,_ in cargo pants and oversized hoodies.  Alice had, at the time, dressed as if she was still trying to be a boy. When, a year later, with Ollie standing like a guard dog beside her, glaring warningly at Grey, Alice had explained that she was not a boy, but a girl and was going to start looking like one, and would be changing her name to Alice, Grey had just said okay.  At the time he hadn’t really understood what that meant, but he did understand the desire to be seen and accepted as your genuine self, so it made sense to him.  Concepts like that were just that simple, he wasn’t sure why so many people tried to complicate them.

“Hey!” Ollie chirped, “come in!”  They all kicked off their shoes in the large entryway, the house smelled odd, like foods Grey wasn’t used to, but he’d been visiting this house for years so was okay with it.

“Hello, my angels!”  Alice’s mother called from the kitchen.  She came into the hallway wiping her hands on a dishtowel, she was small and round, soft and pretty like Alice.  She hugged Mia and Jack and smiled at Grey, knowing he’d rather have that than a hug.

“You’ve come to help our Alice?” she asked.

“That we have,” Jack said.

“Good boy,” she said and patted his cheek.

Alice was in the living room with her father, who was helping her color in posters, “The cavalry has arrived!”  he said happily as they came in and Alice looked up at them.  Her dark hair over her face, her black eyes bright, she gave them a careful smile and Mia sank to the floor beside her.

“Do you all want pizza?”  Alice's father asked, "Sausage work for everyone?-- I'll put in a cheese too?"

“Thank you, that would be nice,” Jack told him, and everyone else nodded.

Alice looked tense as she worked on her poster,” You alright, hon?”  Mia asked once her father had left.

Alice glanced towards the kitchen, “He thinks I should let it go.”

“He seems supportive,” Mia argued gently.

“They are letting me use the girl’s restrooms without issue, we didn’t even have to make them, he says in most schools they either do nothing or make trans kids use the staff restroom, I should be happy they are letting me use the girl’s restroom,” she sighed, “he thinks I’m rocking the boat unnecessarily.”

“It’s not about that though,” Jack offered.

“I told him, but… I know he just wants to keep the peace, this has been fairly smooth, he keeps saying _we’re lucky_.”

“It’s how it’s supposed to be, it’s not luck,” Grey concluded, it was a thought they often expressed in Pride Club when talking about how simple it was to work with their liberal school compared to others they had heard about.

“I’m sorry, that’s frustrating,” Mia said, and they were quiet as they got back to work.

 _Gender Neutral Bathrooms, no assumptions, no genders, just toilets._ Grey’s poster said.  There was a stick figure merperson and centaur below the words, Mia’s idea. He outlined them in thick black marker.  He had worked on all of the lettering last week, and they were to be presented to the school board on Wednesday.

They took a break when the pizza arrived, moving to their large bright kitchen to eat around the table, Grey looked up at them, taking in his circle of friends who were talking about Prom.  He thought about Margo, about Mia and the people she associated with when not with them, about Max with that same group, about Beck and how he seemed to not really have any friends. 

Grey realized Mia was watching him, she smiled at him softly, and he went back to his pizza.

Hours later, as they stood in Mia’s driveway, watching Jack drive away, Mia said, “I’m going to invite Beck tomorrow.”

Grey looked over at her, “He won’t go.”

“I want to ask anyway, I think we can talk him into going, he needs…”  she paused, “yeah,” she said, ending the thought before it was done.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Come on, my whole fucking family is here,” Mia sighed, I’m exhausted.

+++++

The living room was decorated with flowers, garlands across the windows and doorways, food platters everywhere.  It was the last day of April.  The house was full, the functioning Coleman family was small, just the four of them, Mia’s family was huge, and this was only the liberal branch who chose to associate with them. 

Mia’s mom Calissa was Christian, while her other mom, Melissa, was a Secular Humanist.  “The Lissas” as they were collectively known, had found a balance by celebrating pretty much every holiday that came along. 

They had something planned for Earth Day/Passover/the Coleman Twin Birthday but postponed it after The Incident, so they could all celebrate together.  Dinner that night had become an Earth Day/Passover/May Day/Coleman Twin Birthday cookout. They were kind of awesome like that. So, the house was full, and loud and bright, with lots of kids under their feet and out in the yard and on the trampoline.  There was music, spring crafts, kosher hot dogs, and veggie burgers. 

Grey’s mom was there, acting anxious, and Grey wasn’t quite sure why.  She kept sending everyone smiles and saying she was fine, but Grey knew her too well.  Beck was catching on too, his own anxiety picking up.  Mia kept asking him if everything was okay, but he had no explanation. Beck caught them whispering and asked what was going on, “We’re having an affair,” Mia told him, and Grey scowled at that. 

Grey got overwhelmed with the noise and the three Coleman boys, Mia, and Mia’s cousin Lottie escaped to her bedroom to find some quiet.

Mia’s room was bright like a rainbow, cluttered and busy and sweet and wild like she was.  It was a happy place to be, even if it was a bit busy for Grey’s taste. Every inch of her walls was covered by some nonsense or another.  They heard their families in the living room chatting and laughing over post-dinner coffee. 

Max immediately slumped at Mia’s desk to look at his phone, Grey moved to sit on her small loveseat beside her bookshelves, Lottie had curled up in the far corner of Mia’s bed, hugging her own knees and staring at Beck who was with Mia by her closet. 

Beck was looking at something on Mia’s closet door, and Grey knew what it was.  In the center of the door is a paper that has been there as long as this room has belonged to Mia, as long as they have known her.

When Mia was four years old, she was placed with The Lissas and was kind of a mess.  She’d been through a lot of shit that nobody except her and maybe her old caseworkers really knew the details of, even now, but she wanted to go to Kindergarten.  She was already reading and writing and doing math workbooks and games on her own and was hungry to get started at school.  Mia and her moms, along with her therapist, came up with a list of ten things that she had to do to prove she was responsible enough to start school early.  And so she did, and beside each goal, she had placed a messy fat checkmark all those years ago.

In the space around this list were additional goals she had penciled in and achieved throughout the years.  In the ninth grade, she started a new one for her High School career, and it was taped up beside the original, the first fifteen items typed out in Times New Roman, dozens of additional small notes are scribbled in the margins, new goals added in colored ink.

Beck was dragging his fingers over the newest list.

“You still wanting to go to Wellesley?” Beck asked and Max raised his head from his phone at that.

_Wait… Wellesley.  A women’s college.  She’d deleted it before, but evidently, she’d added it back._

Mia searched Beck’s face as she stood from her closet.

“It’s just an idea,” she said quietly.

Max then said what everyone was thinking, “It’s on your list, nothing on your list is _just an idea.”_

Beck smiled though, “I think it’s great, Mim.”

Mia looked sad for a moment before snapping out of it, she smacked Beck’s hand away, “Don’t touch, you’ll jinx it,” she joked.

She ducked back down, “I have something for you,” she said, voice muffled from inside the closet.  She pulled out a largish box from her closet floor, and Lottie shifted to make room so she could set it on the bed beside her.  Lottie was twelve and spent most of her time around Beck Coleman turning beet red and tripping over herself. 

Grey watched Lottie’s color deepen as Beck stood by her knee, he watched Max taking in the interaction from over his phone, and when Mia pulled clothing from the box and held it up against Beck, standing too close, Max went back to his phone. 

“My wealthy friends sent you gifts,” she said to the room in general, but everyone knew she was talking to Beck.

“Okay…”  he said warily. 

“They like you.”

“I harassed their friends, picked a fight, punched a wall, got beat to shit until I puked in their yard, and got hauled off by the police…,” he reminded her.

“They’re bored and basic.  They find your nonsense endearing, it’s insulting, so go ahead and take advantage of them,” she suggested. 

“You did all that?” Lottie asked, and Max snickered at that, but nobody answered her.  

“What is this?  Smells and feels like money woven into cloth,” Beck told Mia touching the sweater she held up to him.

“That’s precisely what this is,” she confirmed, dropping the sweater and reaching back in, “I was with Ronnie last Wednesday at her McMansion, and she was giving me some hand me downs, I’ve got no shame, you know,” she says.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Beck told her with a smirk.

She ignored his implications and continued to talk, “... and her brother said he had some stuff to get rid of if you wanted it, then I started sniffing around… again…”

“No shame,” Beck completed.

“Right… and here you go.” Mia looked over at Grey as if just remembering he was there, “Do you want to look through it?” she asked.

Grey shook his head, “No thank you.”

“Max?” 

“Nope,” he said without looking up.

“I really don’t want it either, Mim,” Beck told her, and she rolled her eyes.

“This is all name brand shit… this… this is _Dolce_ …”  she told him, trying to impress exactly what they were being offered.

“It’s a t-shirt,” he said snatching it from her hand, he hesitated, “and… and…I refuse to admit that the fabric feels like butter,” he informed her, and she laughed.

She carefully pulled his fist from the fabric, “It’s a fucking Dolce and cost $230, new.”

Beck sputtered, seemingly offended, “It’s literally a gray t-shirt.” She ignored his snark and spread a tailored black blazer on the bed, smoothing her hand over it.  It was covered in white roses, “That’s too small,” Beck said to her.

“No, it’s tailored, you’re just used to swimming in fucking hoodies 24/7, it will fit, and it will be so hot on you.”

“Jesus guys, give it a rest, we just ate,” Max sighed at them.

“It has flowers,” Beck complained, ignoring him.

“ _Yessssss,”_ she hissed, “$800, new.”

“Flowers are nice on guys too,” Lottie offered quietly.  Beck looked to Grey who shrugged.

Mia smiled, “You’ll look amazing,” she gasped, inspired, “wear it to Fern’s and Austin’s parties!”

“Black and white isn’t very… springy.”

“It has flowers?” she attempted.

“White roses are springy,” Lottie added, her voice dreamy.

“I thought… something brighter?”

“Just wear it… with black skinnies… and this white t-shirt,” she says holding up a simple white fitted t-shirt.

“You’ll look like Harry Styles,” Lottie said blushing. 

Beck fought a smile, “Yeah,” he said noncommittally.  Mia bit her lip, trying not to laugh and continued to pull clothing from the box with reverence, “Jesus, I hate rich people,” Beck muttered.

“It is what it is, baby,” Mia cooed to the shirt, “Oh this,” she said, pulling a sweater, “it feels like heaven. Burberry,” she said without looking at the tag, “Cashmere.  $450 new.”

“I find it disturbing that you know this.  I’m just going to go drip ice cream on it,” Beck told her.

“He will, you know,” Grey confirmed. 

“Yeah, I know,” she said happily, then tugged at the edge of his shirt.

 “Hey, Grabby Hands, I can get dressed by myself.  Also, I don’t want to destroy your cousin’s perception of what normal naked men look like,” Beck said with an exaggerated wink.

Max stood abruptly, “Nobody needs this crap, come on, kid, let’s go get some pie,” he said to Lottie who scrambled from the bed and followed him from the room.

Grey decided it was time to leave and made his way to the door, “Pie,” he said vaguely, but they were in their own world.

Grey heard their conversation as he left the room, “It feels like a giant fucking bunny rabbit is rubbing itself off on me,” Beck said half to himself.

“Close, that would be angora… and that would be adorable…”

“If a giant rabbit was rubbing itself off on me?”

Mia laughed, “You in a pink angora sweater like Betty Cooper, little pearl buttons....”

“Would you be my Jughead?” he asked fondly, and Grey closed her door.

=====

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has gone through a lot of different revisions and I keep finding inconsistencies from previous versions, if you catch anything that doesn;t quite make sense to you, it MIGHT be plot, or it might be a ghost of previous versions of this story, please point them out and I'll check it out.
> 
> I just caught a major one in this chapter and fixed it. *cringe


	7. Beckett

For once, Beck was in a hurry to get home.  He had plans, horrible, stupid, ill-advised plans.  He talked himself out of it about one hundred times through the day, but there he was, rushing home anyway.  It all started at 5:45 am when he'd heard Max's alarm go off through their bedroom wall.  It was a good hour before Max usually got up, flustered and harried and complaining about being late, even though it was his alarm that he had set himself.  But that morning Max was up and thumping rudely around the house with total disregard to the fact that everyone else (everyone who was home anyway) was sleeping.

He vaguely remembered him saying he was going to start running again and tried to go back to sleep, but at 6 am he heard voices outside his window and peered out to see Max leaving the house in track pants and a sweatshirt, hair sticking up every which way.  He was speaking to someone under the maple trees, "You didn't stretch, did you, you jackass?" the second person said to him, voice muffled by panes of glass and distance, "At least fake it please, I'll wait."

"Yeah, yeah," Max grumped, "my nose is all stuffy," he added as if that excused that he had neglected to stretch.

"You sick?" the other person asked, and Beck shifted to get a better view, the leaves were covering the sidewalk though.

"No, allergies, I think. Fucking spring."

The second person laughed, "Fuck you, flowers!" he said in mock anger.  Max laughed and pulled his foot up towards his ass, "Ready?  I don't want to cool down, we'll take the first mile easy, you're not invited again unless you stretch though, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Max said, then the two of them jogged into view, a wild dark mass of curls beside Max's sandy mop.  Beck knew those curls, the kid… _curls that could change his ways_ , the Ravenclaw… Caleb.  Without warning, he looked up at Beck's window, and he was caught, bright brown eyes meeting blue. 

Beck's instincts simultaneously told him to be casual (after all, he was just looking out the window because he heard voices… that made sense), and to pull away to not be caught watching.  Instead, Beck did neither and found himself stuck frozen beside the window.  He could feel the expression on his face was anything but chill. Before he could recover, Caleb dropped his eyes, and he and Max crossed the road to make their way down the street, and Beck was left kicking himself.

The situation stuck with him all morning as he got ready for school, embarrassment burning his ears, replaying how it went, how it should have gone, his mind wandered into weird territory where he went jogging with them, and he pictured himself hacking up a lung a few blocks away and decided he should stop smoking. 

He was standing in the driveway an hour later, wondering if he'd have to stop smoking weed too, when Mia showed up, startling him from his thoughts, "Yo, Earth to Beck?"  she said.

"He's in a weird mood," Grey said beside him, and Beck hadn't even realized he was there.

"I'm tired, Max woke me up at the ass-crack of dawn thumping around the house like a fucker so he could go running," he explained, falling into step beside Mia and Grey as they headed towards the high school. 

"Yeah, he's in jock mode, I was trying to text him, and he's all _I'm in the zone, Mia, text me later_ ," Mia grunted, " _argh, drink raw eggs and punch shit_!" she elaborated.

"What were you texting him about?"

"I was stupidly hoping I could talk him into sitting with us at the soccer game tonight."

Beck huffed, "Yeah right, that would mean he'd have to admit to knowing you."

"You're coming, right?" she asked.

"And admit I know you? --fuck that," Beck teased.

"Come on, Beck, you're a hermit."

"Why the fuck would you even invite me? What even is it?"

"Girls' soccer, our friend Naomi is on the team, our group will be Pride club mostly."

Beck was already shaking his head, "Nope, they’ll fucking hate me."

"I want you there," Mia argued, “They’ll trust me wanting you there.”

"Why would they trust anything having to do with _me_?  You're keeping your mouth shut about me, right? I love you but don't talk about me."

"No, I keep your stupid secrets," Mia huffed, rolling her eyes, "I shouldn't, but I do."

"I can't go, I'll ruin the whole night, I'm not doing that."

Mia sighed, "So fucking stupid, both you and Max.  Everybody, everybody is stupid.  Everybody except you, Greyson, you're the last hope for the youngest Coleman generation.”  Beck peered around Mia to find Grey reading as he let them lead him down the sidewalk.  Mia continued, “Max will be there, no matter what, he has to be, the boys' team always goes to the girls' games.  We'll just invade their group, force ourselves on him," she says decisively, "the Rainbow Walkers will breach The Wall!!"

"Was that a Game of Thrones reference?  That was horrible," Grey complained.

"We're the three dragons…"  she continued.

Grey and Mia nerd-rambled on, but Beck was distracted.

_The whole boys' team would be there?_

"Grey, are you going?" Beck asked, looking for an in to change his mind.

Grey didn’t even look up from his book before answering, "I have to, Jack and I are covering it for the paper," Grey says, sounding miserable.

"No Peter?" Mia asked, and Grey shook his head.  Beck tried to act disinterested as they went on, but he was carefully gleaning information.

Grey finally looked up, "He taught me how to use the camera last week, he’s letting me handle it on my own this time," Grey said, sounding unimpressed, “Jack will help me if I get stuck.”

"Nice!"  Mia exclaimed, she sounded impressed enough for the both of them, "You will be meeting up with us though, _right_?" this sounded like something they'd discussed before like there was something else to it.

Grey sounded frustrated when he answered, "Yes, Mia, we will."

"You better," she threatened.

"I'll go if you're there, Grey," Beck told them, going for casual.

"I won't be, not really, only for a little bit, I'll mostly be down by the field," Grey corrected him, difficult man that he was, Mia turned to glare at him pointedly.

"I'll go," Beck insisted, pretending he hadn't noticed.

"You will?" Mia was excitedly yanking on Beck's arm.

"Watch the cast, woman!" he scolded, and pulled his arm away, she jumped around yanking on his sleeve anyway, undeterred.

They left Beck at the base of the hill below the school, near where he had met Trevor for the weed that day, halfway between their two campuses. 

"Meet at your house after school, babe!"  Mia called back to him as they climbed the hill.

Beck just nodded.  This was a bad idea.

=====

It was a fucking _terrible_ idea.

On his right, the boys' soccer team, including Max, was mostly pretending Beck wasn't there, Evan was three feet away at the edge of the bleachers closest to him, how could he have forgotten Evan?  To the left, the Pride Club was giving him wide berth, as if he had cooties they might catch if they made eye contact with him. They were overall being coolly polite for Mia's sake, but nobody was talking to him, not even to say hello when he was introduced by Mia.

It seemed like half the damn boys’ team was missing, but fucking Steph of Drunkenly-Made-Out-With-Max-But-Sure-Mia-Tell-Everyone-It-Was-Beck fame was there sitting beside some soccer player named Asher. 

He hadn't recognized her when she’d glared at him, then seemed offended when he looked confused.  She didn't seem too excited to talk about how they knew each other, though, so she just sat there being vaguely rude to him.

Beck regretted everything in his life that had led to that moment.  He regretted the stupid skinny jeans he had on, and the coordinated fucking beanie on his head, and the fact that he'd changed his shirt five times, even though it was hidden under a hoodie, he just generally regretted being such an idiot.  He had had no business being there, he had no business thinking the night would have gone any way other than terribly.

"Which one's Naomi?" he asked Mia, at least wanting to cheer for the right friend.

"Redhead," was all she said, it was all she needed to say because the redhead was easy to spot, a tall girl with red curls wild in a high ponytail.  Beck prepared to cheer but didn't really get to, the girls' soccer team stunk it up, and Naomi was especially bad.  The boys' team was enthusiastic in their support though, they were dressed and painted in school colors, and screamed and leaped around as if every ball nearing our player was a sure thing.

Their two groups talked among themselves, occasionally cheering at an attempt made by the team.  The boys’ team made a little more effort, cheering for the smallest sign of life from the field.  A few of them would jump around on the bleachers in encouragement, attempting to hype up the crowd, and yelling out cheers for the girls.  If Beck hadn't been so unwelcome, he might have actually really been enjoying himself.

Before the first quarter was even through, though, Beck caught a dirty look from a girl with short brown hair and a blue school hoodie who seemed to be protectively shielding the emo-looking girl all clad in black beside her, as if Beck was set to attack her at any moment, and Beck decided he should probably leave. 

He was about to pack it in when a handful of additional boys' soccer members showed up, they were greeted and sank down onto the bleachers, and Beck couldn't help that his eyes immediately found Caleb in the group.  He had bent down between the bleachers, perhaps tying his shoe or something, a glance of dark curls and olive skin peeking from between bodies. The boy stood, and it was for sure him, Beck wondered at the strange chill that ran across his shoulders.

Caleb was tall, maybe even having an inch or two on Beck himself, and he could see that he was wearing a fleece hat with blue and white animal ears and a fucking unicorn horn, dark curls pressing from underneath. Beck found himself looking at him a little too closely, he was a little too thin and tall, his nose was a bit big for his face, which was a bit long, he was just a bit too… everything to be considered objectively attractive, but there was definitely something about him that was objectively… adorable, which was just stupid.

Caleb hadn't noticed him, or didn't care, more likely, Beck forced his eyes back to the game, but even the Pride kids were calling out to Caleb, and he greeted them back cheerfully, waved to them, lifted a camera in front of his face, glancing between it and his friends with a smile. 

Caleb was full on grinning as his friends cheesed for the video he was evidently taking, he scanned over the Pride group also, and they cheered and waved, Caleb revealed a huge smile, full lips parting over beautiful straight white teeth.

Beck turned his eyes from the camera, not wanting his attention caught on film.  Caleb sat finally and his blonde friend, whose name Beck couldn't remember, sat behind him, and immediately bracketed his hips with his feet so he could lean back against his shins.  Someone called out "Jeremy," and the blonde kid turned, he was wearing a blue tutu and had blue paint smeared under each eye.  He was immersed in conversation with someone else, but when Caleb leaned back, he leaned forward over his shoulder to peer at his camera with him.

Mia jumped to her feet and yelled, “Grey!” at the top of her lungs getting everyone’s attention, when Beck look back, Caleb and Jeremy, along with everyone else was watching her wave frantically at the field and Beck shrank slightly in his seat.

“Jesus, Mia, have some dignity,” he hissed, pulling her back into her seat.

“I can see Grey, oh they’re coming this way,”  she said, giddy with excitement.

“How thrilling,” he deadpanned.

“Halftime, I’ll be right back,” she breathed and clambered over him.

The entirety of the boys’ soccer team also stood and made their way down the stairs, Beck watched them help the girls get their drinks and then rile the crowd up.  At the edge of the field, Mia was standing beside Grey and a dark-haired guy.

Mia turned and gestured towards him, and Beck sighed, feeling anxiety roll under his skin.  She waved for him to join them and he looked away, pretending not to see her, then swore under his breath as the three of them made their way up the stairs towards him.

"I know you saw me, you dick," she complained, out of breath from the climb, but Beck’s eyes were behind her.  Grey was coming up behind her and behind him the dark-haired boy.  “This is _Jack,”_ she said proudly like she was excited to introduce them, and Beck understood why.

Jack had moved up beside Grey and leaned against the railing of the stadium steps, long legs in black skinny jeans and biker boots stretched into the aisle.  He looked up at Beck expectantly.  Beck tried to keep his gaze casual, but his eyes wouldn’t behave and ran over Jack’s entire length, finally landing on his returned gaze, his eyebrows raised questioningly. Beck blushed, and looked away, feeling ridiculous and wondering why the hell he was suddenly acting like Lottie, for fuck's sake. 

To be blunt, Jack was ridiculously pleasant to look at.

He had a ring through his septum, and his eyes were heavy-lidded, thick black lashes curling up towards his eyebrows, his gaze was severe and intense, and the most unusual shade of green, like grass.  He looked like a fucking YA love interest who later ends up being some kind of supernatural being. "Hello," he said, and Beck almost flinched in response. Jack’s eye contact was a bit too direct, his attention just too much. This guy focusing on him was like a punch to the gut. 

Beck had an issue with eye contact, even with someone he knew well, but especially with strangers.  He’d been quite outgoing as a child and his social anxiety in more recent years was frustrating as hell. He felt too exposed.  He had to focus entirely on acting normal, on not appearing anxious.  He wasn’t sure what it was about that moment, meeting Jack, but it hit him like a train. 

The average length of eye contact between normal functioning human beings interacting was three seconds, he looked it up, he sometimes literally counted in his head to three, before letting himself look away.  Beck found himself frantically counting in his head, the voice so urgent that no other information was making its way into his brain and he realized he didn’t know what had been said to him.  Luckily Greyson knew this about his brother, so he reintroduced them, "Jack work at the paper with me, Jack, this is my brother, Beck."

"Nice to meet you,” Jack responded.

"Yeah," there were polite smiles and nods, Grey and Mia started talking, but Beck couldn’t tell you what about because Jack had narrowed his eyes at him.  Beck’s brain fizzled, screaming at him that Jack could see his soul in his pupils, like tiny TVs of betrayal… he knew all of his secrets. _One. Two. Three._

"You guys want to sit with us?"  Mia asked, weirdly making room _between_ herself and Beck who scowled at her in confusion.

"God, no," Grey says, exasperated, "I just need Beck's keys, and we're fucking off  to our house."

“ _Our_ house?”  Beck chimed in.

"We have to get this online tonight,"  Jack explained, frowning, Mia matched his frown.

“You should have just used last weeks fucked up game footage, this is basically a repeat,” Mia suggested.

"We should actually probably get back down there,” Jack said, adjusting their camera bag on his shoulder.

"Are you coming home with me?  I'm leaving in a few," Beck realized Grey was speaking to him, and he fumbled for his words for a moment, eyes inexplicably flicking down to the boys’ soccer team coming back up the stairs to their seats now that half-time was nearly done. He looked back just in time to see a silent conversation happening between Mia and Grey.  Grey finally rolled his eyes, "Jack's driving me home, we'll be up for a bit, maybe order some pizza?" he asked, “You could join us.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at him, his gaze still assessing, "You should maybe go hang out with them?" Mia suggested lowly beside Beck. 

He looked to Mia questioningly and shoved her elbow away from where it was digging into his ribs, "No, thanks, I'm going to stay," he told Grey, and Mia looked frustrated, but Grey just reached over and dug into Beck's pocket without a word.  He snagged his keys, and made his way back down the stairs, taking Jack with him.

Beck thought it was over, but then out of nowhere, Jack turned, “See you around, Beck,” he said, Beck looked up to find green eyes drilling into his soul,

"Myah," he responded idiotically, and Mia snorted.

The three of them climbed down the bleacher stairs back towards the sidelines of the field.

"Myah," Mia mocked.

"My tongue swelled up, I think," he told her.  “What the fuck was that?”

“That was Jack, you should have gone, you should go,” Mia hissed beside him.

Beck turned to her, “Why? What are you doing?”

“Go on, Beck,”  Mia urged, pushing Beck towards the aisle.

“Are you trying to hook Beck up with Jack?”  The blue-hoodie girl asked from beside them, tone disbelieving.

Beck’s eyes snapped back to Mia, “ _Are_ you?” he almost yelled, realizing too late that they were attracting attention from the now returned boys’ soccer team

“I thought you two were dating?” the girl revealed gesturing between Mia and Beck.

Both Beck and Mia scoffed at her, “What?  Shut up, Ollie, Jesus,”  Mia sighed, exasperated.

“Are you _gay_?” the girl asks casually, shoving popcorn in her mouth.  The emo girl was watching the conversation quietly beside her.

“Are we asking strangers in public if they are gay now?  Is that a thing we’re doing, Ols?”  Mia asked her flatly, and she shrugged apologetically in response.

Beck shoved Mia hard enough that she slid from the bleacher seat, falling between them in a twist of limbs.  She looked up at him in shock, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile, Mia grinned back, “You meddling freak, is that why you made me come?” he asked.

Mia pulled herself back up beside him, “I mean… I mean…”  she said, frantically gesturing toward Jack where he stood with Grey on the sidelines.

“Not that I don’t appreciate that you think I could manage _that,”_ Beck added, making Mia giggle, “but maybe next time ask me first?”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, leaning against his side.

“Don’t touch me, I feel fucking _defiled_ just having been looked at by him,”  Beck said just to make Mia laugh again, “he’s ridiculous,” he added under his breath, and Mia choked on her laughter.

“Why would you do that to Jack anyway?” Ollie asked, and Mia’a laughter cut off abruptly as she whipped towards her.  Beck felt his neck burn in embarrassment.

“For that, you get to buy Beck and me a pretzel,”  Mia informed her and Ollie rolled her eyes, but a moment later she stood, the emo girl followed her automatically.

“Sorry,” Mia muttered after they were gone, “I’m going to go talk to her.”

Beck grabbed her elbow, “Don’t bother, she _should_ dislike me.”

“I’ll go get us some pop,” she amended unconvincingly, and he let her go.

Beck looked down to Grey and Jack where they were wrapping up whatever they were up to down by the field. Jack laughed at something Grey said, and Grey smiled a little.  It randomly occurred to Beck that they could be flirting.  They weren’t… probably, but what if they were? 

Grey could have a boyfriend… or girlfriend… he tried to picture Greyson having someone.  Would they kiss in the park before curfew like Max and Fiona?  Would this person have a taste?  A smell?  When Grey came home would their scent be on him?  

He tried to picture someone… to picture Jack, coming to dinner at their house.  He imagined their mom would tease them in that way moms do like it's just too cute for her to not torment them.   Would she remind them to keep the door open as they lounged on his bed doing homework, with some body part touching like they can't stand to break that connection? He was so weird about touching people how would that even work? 

It was discomforting to imagine that Grey might be able to manage that when he couldn't even picture it for himself.  What would that be like?  Beck wondered why the idea felt to improbable, wondered if something was just fucking broken in him, his throat felt tight.

The panic rising in his chest was nonsensical.  Nothing was even happening.

Jack looked up and caught Beck watching them, narrowing his eyes at him again. He disliked him on principle, and Beck didn’t blame him.  Beck looked down at his shoes and started to stand, deciding to split while Mia’s gone so she couldn’t argue with him and try to make him stay.  Jack’s eyes cut to the right, and Beck turned and was startled to find Caleb sitting beside him.

“Hey,” Caleb said kindly, up close his eyes were a warm reddish-brown

The hair on the back of Beck’s neck stood on end, “Hey,” he responded warily.

 _One, two three._ But Beck didn’t feel the need to look away.

Caleb looked down instead, turning his gaze over the team on the field, quiet for a moment and Beck looked around him, everybody was minding their own business or still wandering around using the bathrooms or hitting up the concession stand from halftime.

“Um… what…?” Beck began.

Caleb shrugged, "You were being excluded."

Beck looked at his profile a moment, "You know why, right?" he asked him.

"Yes."  Caleb shot to his feet, clapping wildly, “Come on Herons!” he yells down at the field as the team managed to gain control of the ball. Beck looked down, remembering there was an actual game going on.  He watched them wildly miss a simple pass, and Caleb sat down, “Fuck they’re horrible,”  he said half to himself.

"You are friends with the soccer team _and_ the Pride kids,” Beck reminded him.

Caleb nodded slowly, “Defense, _defense!”_ Celeb screamed.  Evidently, the defense wasn’t listening because the visiting team scored a quick goal.

Beck dropped his voice, “But… you're willing to be friendly with me even though you know why everybody dislikes me?" he asked him.

“Evan’s a dick, he probably deserved whatever you said to him to make him go off, he _should_ lose his place for that, it’s against his contract, but nobody will admit it actually happened.”

“He did deserve it, just so you know,” Beck assured him, and Caleb nodded knowingly. “What about the other part?”

“Other part?”

“The reason the Pride kids dislike me… I know you know, don’t bother pretending you don’t.”

Caleb nodded again, “I do, but I’m not worried about that.”

“Yeah? Why not? It’s pretty fucking worrisome,”  Beck laughed.

Caleb shrugged, "I’ve been assured that it’s all bullshit.”

Beck searched his face and Caleb finally looked back raising his eyebrows knowingly.

Beck sighed, _fucking Mia and her big mouth_ , "Well _people_ should keep my name out of their damn mouths,” he snapped

"I'm not going to refuse to talk to you because you're a homophobe… mostly because I don't think you are… I _should_ be refusing to talk to you because you're a fucking idiot,"  Caleb clarified.

Beck scoffed, "Then why _are_ you talking to me?"

Caleb sighed, “Because I know you're not that either, so I guess I'm just intrigued as to why someone as smart as you are would agree to take the fall for something someone else did.”

Beck looked around quickly, they were still alone in their conversation.  He leaned in closer to Caleb, “I don't know what you're talking about, man, I did it.”

Caleb shot him an exasperated look, "People will understand, Max was having problems."

"Mia has a huge fucking mouth, nothing is wrong with Max, and he didn't do anything," Beck said harshly.

"Calm down, Max told me himself about the bipolar thing, it wasn't Mia," Caleb informed him.  His back straightened as the Herons got possession of the ball but slumped again as they promptly lost it again, “Max is my friend, he actually _talks_ to me.”

"So… he admitted to you what he did to the principal's car?" Beck asked in a hushed voice, disbelieving.  Max didn’t even admit to _Beck_ that he did it, sometimes he wondered if Max really did somehow think it had been him.

"No, Max told me about the bipolar thing, and Mia just said not to believe everything I heard about you, even if you said it yourself, so I came to my own conclusions.”

"Mia needs to shut up," Beck looked around again and noticed Jeremy as well as a couple other students, watching them, "and you should really be careful who you associate with, it's going to ruin your reputation."

“I’m not worried what people think,” Caleb began.

“You should be,” Beck stood and made his way up the stairs towards the main entrance.

“Where are you going?”  Mia called approaching him in the courtyard with two sodas.

“Home,” he says shortly.

“Wait, why?  What’s going on?” she said, chasing him.

Beck stopped and turned to her, “You need to stop talking about me… and stop talking about Max, I can make my own decisions and handle the consequences, stop fucking meddling, and stop trying to… help.”

“What happened? Who said I said something? Wait, at least let Grey and Jack take you home!” Mia suggested, already clicking way on her phone, moments later Grey and Jack appeared.

“Can I get a ride home with you guys?” Beck asked reluctantly.

“Sure,” Jack responded, “Margo’s picking us up, so the car will be packed, but it’s not that far," as if on cue, a red SUV pulled into the parking lot.  A brunette leaned across the passenger seat, peering at Beck.

“Don’t tell me, another Coleman brother?”

“Beck,” he answered.

“The man, the myth, the urban legend. I thought they made you up."

“I wish,” Beck sighed.

Margo narrowed her eyes, “I’m a bitch in a lot of ways, but I won’t tolerate any bullshit between here and your house.”

“Margo…!”  Mia began, but Beck interrupted.

 “I think I can manage to refrain,” Beck agreed and kicked at the grass near his feet.

“Then get in loser’s.”

=====

Beck fell asleep to the sound of Grey, Margo, and Jack working in Grey's bedroom, but their work must have been done quickly because when he woke to the sound of his door opening, the clock read only 10:00, and the house was dark and quiet.

“Can I stay here?” Mia asked warily.

Beck answered by scooting over to make room for her, and she hurried to climb in.

She was silent long enough that Beck started to nod off, then she spoke quietly, “I’m sorry,”  she whispered.

“I know.”

“I just hate watching you throw yourself on grenades for everybody all of the time… I mean, what’s left for _you?”_

“I can handle it better than they can,” Beck explained, “I do it because I can take it.”

“You don’t have to though, let people deal with their own mistakes.”

“Like you do?” he asked, and she sighed beside him in the dark.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, “did you at least hang out with Jack a bit longer when you got home?”

“Nope.”

“Idiot. You should talk to him, he’s more than just a pretty face, he's pretty decent company when he's not raging about how Capitalism destroys humanity and death comes for us all," Mia informed him.

"Why is everyone you know so pretty?" Beck asked her.

She laughed, "Because I'm pretty," she teased, curling into his side.

Beck kissed her cheek softly, "You're beautiful,” he agreed and hugged her tight.

“So, Ollie thought we were dating… that was a thing,” she told him, her breath is hot against his shoulder.

“Everybody probably thinks we’re dating, we’re weird together.”

Mia shoved him lightly, “We’re not weird.”

“We’re weird,  I’m not complaining.”

“That would be a thing though huh?—us dating?” Mia asked quietly.

“Can’t even _imagine_.”

“Fuck you.” 

Beck snickered, “I’m sure it would be lovely, Mim.”

She was silent again, but this time Beck didn’t feel like sleeping, Mia was tense against him, feeling not quite like herself, “I feel…”  she began, and Beck hugged her tight in response to her tone, “like I need cuddles I guess,” she said sadly.

“I can do that,” he whispered.

Mia curled into him, breathing into his neck, giving him goosebumps. “You smell like my happy place,” she murmured.  Beck didn’t respond except to rub his palm flat between her shoulders, his thumb brushing against her soft skin.  Suddenly she kissed his neck a little, warm and wet, her breath hot near his ear, her hand creeping up his chest, Beck froze in response, and she stopped.  Beck hugged her close, predicting her reaction, “Sorry,” she sighed and laid her head back down.

Beck kissed the crown of her head, “Nah,” he reassured her.

Mia rolled onto her back beside him, sighing at the ceiling, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mia.”

“I need to go,” she said, rolling from the bed.

“Mim…,” Beck started, sitting up in his bed.

Mia bent to put her shoes on, “It’s fine, I just need to go home.”

“You can stay.”

She laughed and shook her head, “No, I need to go. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I know,” she replied, smiling down at him, her voice bright, “I’ll see you in the morning,” then she was gone.  He listened for the door to shut downstairs, then laid back down, looking at the moon high and bright outside his window.

=====

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Flatfootmonster for making me think to revisit this.
> 
> Kudos and especially comments are appreciated and I find them really encouraging when it comes to inspiration. 
> 
> note:  
> Max's final diagnosis is unspecified and unknown, his behavior and experiences are inspired by the experiences with mental illness as well as the actions of a someone close to me. This is also true for Beck's depression and Grey's sensory issues, they are their experiences and are not meant to represent all people with addiction, mental health issues, or neurodiversity. That being said, if you are concerned about how I have portrayed them please feel free to talk to me about it.


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